Grindelwald's Daughter
by Mariico
Summary: Hermione Granger, the daughter of Gellert Grindelwald, is sent to Hogwarts on a secret mission. It doesn't take her long to meet Tom Riddle, who is just as curious about her as she is about him. Can Hermione keep her big secret, or is she just as doomed as it is?  **CURRENTLY UNDER REVISION**
1. Prologue

**Thanks to my beta, AllShadesofGrey, for looking this over.**

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><p><strong><em>Prologue<em>**

"No! P-please! I'll do what you say!"

Hermione Grindelwald twirled her wand in her hand as she regarded the trembling man coldly. His name was Jonny Nuhaka, and he was a Quidditch player, though she had no interest in such a trivial activity such as Quidditch. Her father had found him snooping around in his private headquarters and sent him down there for Hermione to 'play' with him.

Hermione was all too aware of the shady man standing in the corner, taking notes of her every move. He seemed to always be there whenever she was given someone to punish, but he never spoke to her. Whenever she tried to show some sign of conversing with him, he simply got up and walked away. Her father never answered any of her questions about him, either, and she had learned long ago to stop asking.

"Will you?" she asked, glancing down at him with a thoughtful, albeit menacing expression on her face. She almost admired the man. He had gone through more rounds of the Cruciatus than all her other victims had before. The Cruciatus, she knew, was not about stamina. It was about willpower. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"It was Dumbledore," Nuhaka blurted out. "Dumbledore decoded a secret code that was left on the floor of Hogwarts. He sent me to see if I could get in." He added in a softer voice, "He'll come here if I don't go back."

A secret code was left on the floor of Hogwarts? Did that mean there was a spy there? Why wasn't it her? Her father knew how much she wanted to go to Hogwarts. The spy was obviously careless, leaving something so important on the floor. Why would Grindelwald chose _them_ over her? She felt a surge of anger go through her, but quickly calmed herself. It would not do to lose her temper here; there would be plenty of time to punch pillows and scream to her heart's content in her bedroom later.

"You're lying."

Nuhaka's head whipped up to hers, his brown eyes dull and his lip quivering slightly. She had seen him in the newspaper once, and he looked nothing like he did now. Jonny Nuhaka was a vibrant man who was the idol of boys and girls alike all over the world for his elegant flying skills. He was not this broken man, dirty and soiled, lying on the cold marble floor.

"I-I'm lying?" Nuhaka shook his head. "I'm not."

He seemed so sure that he was telling the truth, but Hermione had seen better actors than him in the past. Noticing the man in the corner tapping his foot impatiently, she sent another Cruciatus at the man. He writhed around, and his screams filled the room. After all these years, she still had the urge to close her eyes. It felt so_wrong_ to watch, even though it was her that was causing him pain in the first place.

Hermione took a deep breath, and risked another glance at the man in the corner. Unlike her, he was watching in pure satisfaction, his eyes following Nuhaka's every movement. He was just like Grindelwald in every way, and Hermione shuddered. All his minions were exact replicas of him; they were as sadistic and insane as him. She looked down at her hands. They were rough and calloused from all the fighting and dueling she had gone through. Would she become just like him, a miniature version of him that he brainwashed?

"You are. Dumbledore would've never let you come here by yourself," Hermione herself had never met the man, but she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. She knew that he was her father's greatest enemy. She knew that he was a transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. She also knew that even though her father declined it steadily, Albus Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard on earth. And her father did not like that one bit.

"You decoded this message by yourself, didn't you?" she asked, her voice steady. Nuhaka did not meet her eyes, and that action was as good as a confession. "Dumbledore doesn't even know of this place. He doesn't even know of the code." She probed his mind and he let her. He had no mental barriers. "You burned the code after you read it."

"No, Dumbledore doesn't know." Nuhaka replied hoarsely. Hermione's eyes flicked over to the man in the corner, who jotted something down. She seemed to have done a good enough job, because he raised his eyes to meet hers, gave her a quick nod, and then disappeared down the hallway.

And then she was left with her broken victim.

She crouched down next to him, but he beat her to speaking. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Hermione was amazed that his voice was steady, considering how much he was trembling. Whether it was from the after effects of the cruciatus or because of the freezing temperature in the room, she didn't know.

"Yes." Hermione said, reaching a hand over to brush a strand of hair out of his face. There were no video cameras in the room that she was aware of. Her father wouldn't send someone to watch her if he could just record her. Nuhaka looked shocked, and looked as if he was contemplating whether or not to attack her. She frowned and retracted her hand immediately. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Come here, by yourself," Hermione said. "If you had come here with Dumbledore, it would've given him a huge problem." _Him_, she had said. Not _us_. Based on the look on Nuhaka's face, he noticed, but he didn't comment on it.

He looked as though he was deciding whether or not to tell her, and then finally sighed and said, "My wife." Hermione looked at him, but didn't speak, so he continued. "She always says how I'm a good for nothing husband. That I can only play Quidditch. She told me she wanted someone who could prove himself."

"So you decided to prove yourself by defeating Grindelwald," Hermione said flatly, the idea sounding absurd even to her own ears. If someone like him could've beaten Grindelwald, her father would've already been dead years ago. "That was stupid."

"It was," Nuhaka swallowed. "You're not like the others, are you?" When Hermione didn't respond, he pressed on. "You're not as cruel. I-I…can you tell my wife what happened to me? So she knows that I tried, at least?"

Whoever Nuhaka's wife was, she clearly did not deserve this man. Hermione glanced at him sadly, but kept tone as robotic as she possibly could. "I make no promises."

They both knew that she wasn't going to do it, but neither of them said anything about it. Instead, Nuhaka just nodded and Hermione said as if she were talking about the weather, "I'm going to kill you now."

"I know." Nuhaka said. He rolled over from his side on to his back and closed his eyes momentarily and taking a deep breath before opening his eyes again. "But do you have to?"

He was lucky that she was there instead of Grindelwald himself. Grindelwald would've had him back writhing around under the Cruciatus. He hated his victims talking back to him. He usually tortured them until they could not do anything but agree with whatever he said.

Hermione, however, just shrugged. "Of course I have to. I don't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice." Nuhaka said, eyeing her cautiously. There was a spark of hope beginning to form in his eyes when he saw that she wasn't as excited to murder him as he originally thought. She couldn't let him build on that hope. Not when that hope was not going to lead anywhere.

"Not me," Hermione whispered. She never did have a choice. Ever since she was born, she had been thrust in to the claws of evil. Grindelwald had trained her to be as ruthless as he was, except the fact that he never seemed to be able to get rid of her conscious, the part of her that was still sane to say that these people didn't deserve this. She went along, because Grindelwald could do things to her that no one else could do. "I never had a choice."

Nuhaka looked at her, and a look of pity seemed to flash through his eyes. He was on the floor, about to die, and he pitied her. "All right," he said, his voice stronger than before. There was a look in his eyes as well, a new fire that burned in them. Hermione was startled by the sudden change in his demeanor, wondering what she could've said that made him change so much. "Kill me now."

Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Can I ask you to do me a favor, though?" Nuhaka looked at her, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears. "Can you make it quick?"

"Of course," Hermione reverted back to her professional voice, placing her wand against his forehead. "I have no interest in dragging it out any more than you want to." She did not want to cut out his insides and take out his organs one by one. He wanted a quick death, and she owed him that.

"Thank you," Nuhaka whispered, and then placed his hands around her wand. "You are brave."

Hermione uttered the two unforgivable words, and then there was a flash of green light. Nuhaka's hands fell to his sides, his eyes open but unseeing. Strangely, there was a look of bliss on his face. Carefully, Hermione closed his eyes and closed her eyes.

_You are brave? _She was not brave. She was a coward. She couldn't even go against her father, and instead took innocent lives in an attempt to keep hers. If she were really brave, she would let herself be killed.

Her father would send people for the body soon, and she did not want to watch them burn Nuhaka's body like they burned everyone else's. She placed her hand into his, and then said, "It's you who's brave."

Hermione glanced down at the man who had sacrificed his life for his wife, who had wandered in to a lion's den to please her. Hermione hoped that his wife could at least see the man Nuhaka was, even if it was too late. Slipping her hand quickly out of his, she took one last glance at him before she whirled out of the room.

ஐ

"What took you so long?"

"I got held up," Hermione said nonchalantly, looking her father straight in the eye. Looking away would make him suspicious, and that she definitely did not need. The last time he had probed around in her brain was not an experience she wanted to remember.

Grindelwald raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead he handed her a necklaces with a small flower at the end, and Hermione put it on without saying anything. It looked like a tracking device.

"That's so I know where you are at all times," Grindelwald said smoothly, causing Hermione to scowl mentally. Of course he would want to know where she was; he liked having complete control over her, after all. She was but a mere puppet to him.

"You know where I am at all times," she replied, refraining from adding, '_Are you too lazy to look through the house for me?'_ Somehow, she doubted he would take it well. Being his daughter, he was more lenient with her snarky comments, but she had found out when she was young what happened when she pushed his boundaries.

"I do," her father said. "But this will save me the trouble of having to find you." Hermione almost snorted, but stopped herself before she did. He paused for a little, and then said, "I have a new mission for you."

"Mission?" Hermione repeated, watching a slow smirk appear on his face. He clearly wanted to her to ask, and she didn't want to, but her curiosity won out in the end. "What type of mission?"

"Your mission," Grindelwald told her, "is to spy on Albus Dumbledore. I trust that you know who that is, no?" There was an underlying anger in his voice, and his eyes hardened.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. Albus Dumbledore, the only man who Grindlewald truly feared, the only man who could a stop to her father's evil and twisted ways.

"Albus Dumbledore resides in Hogwarts," Grindlewald continued, "and he is the transfiguration teacher there."

"If it's in Hogwarts," Hermione tried hopefully. "Does this mean that I can—?"

"No." His voice was cold. "You absolutely may not." Hermione's expression immediately fell, but her father didn't notice. "Do you take me as a fool? What would I gain, sending you right under the nose of Dumbledore? No, you will be placed quite far away from him."

Hermione was thoroughly confused. "How am I supposed to spy on him, then?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant even though just the _thought_ of meeting Dumbledore excited her. She had heard so much about how exceptional he was, and she wanted to see it in real life.

"You will be relying on your ear," Grindelwald said. "There's quite an amount of gossip swirling around. It is pathetic how people spend so much time spreading gossip." A look of disgust appeared on his face.

"I see." Hermione didn't see the advantages of this. Surely, no matter how famous Dumbledore was, she could find out all her father wanted just by _listening_. However, she shoved that thought out of her mind and said, "And where will I be situated?"

"At the Malfoy Manor." This didn't ring any bells in her head, but then again her father had never educated her on the outside world. "Brutus and Irma Malfoy. Both pureblood. They have two sons, Gabriel and Abraxas. Abraxas is the same age as you," his eyes glinted slightly. "I expect you not to do anything about that."

She wasn't going to. She had no interest in dawdling around with some rich purebloods, anyway. That was not part of her mission, and she was going to avoid contact with anyone who she was not ordered to come in contact with.

"Your mission begins tomorrow," he instructed, making sure that she was listening carefully. "You will live there for one year under the name of Hermione Granger. You are a mudblood whose parents died just a week ago. You are going to be working there as a slave." Hermione wanted to groan; slaves had to work, which mean she had a year's work of labor to do. "And you will report to me every week. Any questions?"

Hermione shook her head, itching to take her wand out to feel the familiar piece of wood in her hand. It was her comfort. However, she had no doubt that Grindelwald would take it as a threat and blow her over to the next room. She kept her hands where they were and her wand remained in her pocket.

"Good." Grindelwald's eyes glinted dangerously, and at that moment, Hermione saw the dark wizard that the world knew and feared. He kept it hidden for most of the time, but when it reappeared, Hermione was reminded of why people were so scared of him. "Do not disappoint me."

ஐ

Hermione closed her trunk carefully, putting on the nasty rags that all of the servants had to wear. The situation was ridiculous, really. She had never expected that her _father_, of all people, would be asking her to spy. It seemed like a dirty trick that was below him. '_But then again_,' Hermione thought viciously, _'he's already at the very bottom.'_

She had met the other two servants earlier in the day. Lavender Brown had given Hermione a major headache with her constant blabbering, but Hermione found her minimally likable. Lavender talked about all the things Hermione never had time to worry about, like different brands of makeup and jewelry. Though Hermione couldn't follow what she was saying, she was glad that _someone_ seemed to be enjoying this situation.

Lavender was muggleborn, Hermione found out quickly, and her parents had abandoned her when she was ten, when financial issues got the best of the Brown family. She had jumped from house to house over the years, serving as a slave. They had all eventually kicked her out when her constant chattering had become increasingly annoying. Lavender then decided to serve a pureblooded family.

"After all," Lavender had reasoned to an amused Hermione. "They're purebloods. They must be used to talking."

Hermione doubted that was the case. Even if they did talk a lot, they wouldn't talk to slaves. Purebloods would never lower themselves _that_ low, but she didn't feel like pointing it out. She didn't want to scare away her only female acquaintance there. However, part of her thought that the girl was a little cuckoo in the head.

Of course she couldn't let herself seem _too_ attached, or else her father would have his say in the matter.

The other slave went by the name of Harry Potter, and the boy would tell as much about his background as Hermione would. He had shaggy dark hair, piercing green eyes and lopsided glasses. He looked tired, though he brushed Hermione off when she asked. Harry had mentioned accidentally that his parents had died when he was very young. After he realized what he had said, he had clamped up and turned his back firmly on Hermione. She understood it as a dismissal. The two of them had not spoken since, nor did Hermione really want to. There were just some people you couldn't win over, and she wasn't even going to try with Harry.

The three of them had divided the tasks between them. They still had to respond when they were called, of course, but they had decided to set a schedule to follow. Lavender, being the earliest to rise, would get the morning shift. That was fine with Hermione, as she had seen her fair share of pureblooded wizards over the years, and she knew that they weren't the happiest campers in the morning. Lavender, though, seemed to be happy to take the morning jobs. She claimed that there were fewer jobs to be done in the morning. Hermione had simply rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything. She certainly wasn't volunteering to serve cranky wizards.

Harry had volunteered for the afternoon shift, and Hermione had glowered at him. She did not want the evening shift. She knew, from her father's last minute education on the Malfoy family, that they held large parties, most of them happening in the evening. That was exactly what she needed; more wizards to laugh and sneer at her. The last time she attended a party, she had exploded a witch's wine glass in her face, and her enraged husband had tracked Hermione down, torturing her for ten minutes straight until her father found her. Harry, however, had refused to budge, and Hermione eventually gave up. She would force Harry to switch later. Nothing too serious, of course, but she could show some sparks, couldn't she? She _was_ Grindelwald's daughter, after all.

She had asked Lavender what happened at her shift after the girl had bustled back, but all she got was a whole bunch of squealing and chattering about how handsome the Malfoy boys were and how lucky she was to be working in the Manor. Hermione had looked at her in disgust and tuned the girl out for the rest of the conversation. Lavender certainly needed to sort out her priorities. This wasn't a place where she could fangirl over her masters.

She passed Harry on her way to the kitchen, as he was going back to his room after finishing his chores. She had asked him as well how it was, but she didn't really expect the answer to be anything better than Lavender's. It turned out she was correct; Harry had simply shrugged, and said, "I cleaned the house and served them lunch," leaving a very pissed Hermione behind him. '_There's no one useful in the house, is there?' _she fumed madly.

It seemed like she was all by herself here. While she hadn't been expecting to make any friends, she had hoped that there was going to be someone reasonable to talk to. Hermione didn't want to talk to Lavender about the Malfoy sons, and she didn't really think that Harry _would_ talk to her even if she wanted to.

Hermione sighed, picked up the glass of firewhiskey, and took her first step into the dining room. The room was even fancier than the kitchen, if possible. A large table greeted her, and four people sat around it. All four of them shared the same features; blue-gray eyes and nearly white hair. All of them wore clean black robes. Hermione noted absentmindedly that Lavender was correct about the Malfoy sons being handsome, but she would never admit it to the girl. All four of them looked up when she entered, and eight eyes seemed to pierce holes through her body.

"I—er-brought firewhiskey," she stuttered slightly, holding up the bottle. Did she sound intimidated enough? Her father had never sent her to acting lessons because she had never been in a situation where she needed to act. Most of the time, all she had to do was cast one or two spells, and that was it.

The eldest Malfoy, who Hermione assumed was the head of the household, Brutus Malfoy, cleared his throat impatiently and glared at her. Hermione shrunk back slightly for the act, though she wasn't particularly scared of him. "_Master._"

Hermione stared at him. "Excuse me?"

The only other lady in the room, who Hermione assumed was Irma Malfoy, stared at her disapprovingly. Her sons, though, reacted differently. The older one, who Lavender had called Gabriel during all her squealing, was smirking at her, but he wasn't looking at her eyes. He was looking below her face. Hermione resisted the urge to cross her hands over her chest. She wouldn't acknowledge him. She wouldn't let him win.

The other son, who Lavender had mentioned as Abraxas, had a blank look on his face. He seemed to want to be there as much as Hermione herself did, and was now giving her a calculating glance. She didn't seem to pass his test, as he soon looked away, bored. Hermione felt a sting of rejection, which she brushed away quickly. She didn't have to pass his test. Why did it matter what he thought of her? Hermione glared at the back of his blond head and wished she could set his hair on fire.

'_Abraxas is the same age as you,' _Grindlewald's voice echoed in her head. _'I expect you not to do anything about that.' _Oh, she wasn't going to go near him with a ten foot pole.

"I brought firewhiskey, _Master_," Lord Malfoy said, glaring daggers at Hermione. However, he seemed harmless enough, and though Hermione knew she mightregret it later, she did her best to plaster an innocent expression on her face and said,

"There's no need to call me Master."

Lord Malfoy's face flipped into a nasty snarl. Abraxas, however, had looked at her again, and if she wasn't mistaken, Hermione could see the corners of his mouth slightly twitch. Oh well, she had upset one to entertain one. Not too shabby of a start.

"Just pour the damn thing," Lord Malfoy had said, finally getting his temper in check. "You're lucky I don't have my wand with me," He muttered darkly. Hermione, unfazed by his threat, hurried to fill each glass with liquid. Lady Malfoy had looked like she wanted to slap Hermione when she got over to her side of the table, but she managed to restrain herself. Gabriel, however, was a different matter. When she reached for Gabriel's glass, she felt a hand trailing up her leg. Hermione had turned to glare at Gabriel's grinning face, though it seemed like the only other person who had noticed was Abraxas, though he wasn't helping _her_ any time soon. Hermione gave Gabriel her best death glare and moved as far away from him as possible, though not before seeing the smirk that appeared on his face. She frowned. She was a slave. He was a pureblood. The two of them simply didn't mix, nor did Hermione want them to.

The dinner proved to be very boring, and Hermione couldn't be happier when Lord Malfoy had decided to dismiss her. He still hadn't gotten over her stunt in the beginning, and was glowering darkly at her as she took the empty bottle and walked towards the kitchens. Hermione was really starting to regret her big mouth. She was certain that he would punish her as soon as he had his wand back in his hand. When he didn't though, he was just another annoying man. A wealthy and powerful man for sure, but just a man.

And Hermione really doubt that there was anything he could do to her that Grindelwald didn't already do, on a much bigger scale.

As Hermione was heading down the stairs, she heard Abraxas drawl slowly,

"Mother, Father, would it be alright if Tom came over next week?"

Hermione rolled her eyes when she was safely in the kitchen. Just another wizard to add to this _lovely_ mix of purebloods.

Her father had said it would only be one year. She could handle one year. She had lived with her father her whole life. She had endured twenty round of the Cruciatus curse straight and managed to get up and walk away. She could endure living with some purebloods.

But even Hermione couldn't prepare herself for what would happen.

ஐ

Hermione found a huge mess near Gabriel's section of the table when she came back afterwards. According to Lavender, who she had conversed with before the girl went to bed, they were all neat eaters. Hermione felt her anger bubble inside of her; the prick had done it to spite her.

Hermione took out her wand she had received from the Malfoy's. It was charmed to be restricted to certain simple spells. However, she was grateful for it; had she not had it, she would've made the mistake of accidentally pulling out her real wand she had stashed in her pocket. And though Hermione knew that Lord Malfoy had let her retort slide at dinner, he wouldn't be as lenient if he found that Hermione possessed the magical piece of wood.

She had been fairly surprised that her father hadn't taken away her wand and insisted that she mastered wandless magic in a day's time. He had made her learn nonverbal spells in an hour, and when she pointed out that it took him a month's time to learn so, he simply cursed her. She didn't open her mouth again during that lesson, and when she finally learned how to do so after one hour and ten minutes, he had taken her to his room and had her endure ten rounds of Crucio, each time to emphasize the minutes she had wasted.

"Looks like someone went all out for you."

Hermione whirled around, pointing the restricted wand at the speaker, though she knew it wouldn't be any good. The wand couldn't fire any useful spells anyways, and Hermione was never happier to see it was Harry leaning against the doorway. She had thought for a second that it had been Gabriel coming to gloat while she wiped up his mess, and she wasn't sure she could refrain herself from cursing him if that had happened.

"Hi Harry," Hermione said when he didn't do anything else but stand there and watch. "What are you doing still awake? Lavender went to sleep already." She turned back to her work, thinking he would leave. He didn't.

"I know," Harry said, standing next to her and pulled out his own restricted wand. "The girl sleeps like a dying elephant. Loud when she's awake, loud when she's asleep." It seemed like Harry had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of one of Lavender's rants. "Some people just never change."

Hermione grinned, and then her eyes snapped towards Harry. He was next to her, mimicking her hand movements. "Harry, why are you helping me?" she asked suspiciously as she watched the boy waving around his wand, cleaning up the firewhiskey spill that Hermione was sure Gabriel intentionally caused.

Harry shrugged and said simply, "Why shouldn't I help you?" She found that she didn't have a counter argument to that, nor did she want to find one. It was as if he had forgotten that he hadn't been talking to her just earlier that day, but Hermione decided to keep quiet about that.

After spending so much time with her father, Hermione and learned to be naturally suspicious of everything. Everyone, she reasoned, had their own secret agendas, planning out everything they wanted to do.

Hermione kept Harry in her vision while she worked her way around the table. There was something about him that seemed off, and she wasn't willing to forget his behavior earlier, either. Harry had a motive, she knew, that would get him to have a sudden mood change.

But as they talked some more, both remaining silent about their background, she discovered that maybe there were some people in the world that didn't have secret agendas. That their actions were straightforward instead of containing as many twists as a complicated maze.

Afterwards, as Hermione lay in bed reflecting her day, she decided that it hadn't been as bad as she had originally thought it'd be.

ஐ

The next few days passed without many incidents. Hermione gradually grew closer with her fellow slaves. Lavender's lovesick blabbering only grew over time, though it was obvious that neither Gabriel nor Abraxas were at all interested in consorting with slaves. Abraxas didn't seem to be interested in anyone at all, and while Gabriel leered at her occasionally, he seemed to shut himself in his room a lot as well.

Hermione, meanwhile, found and perfected a way to tune Lavender out when she was ranting. She liked listening to her; she had never had a chance to talk with a fellow girl as there were very little women among her father's minions. However, Hermione drew the line when Lavender started talking with boys. She simply was not interested, and she could definitely live a nice and healthy life without knowing how 'Gabriel's eyes glitters when the sun hits it,' or how 'Abraxas tosses his hair when he walks.'

Hermione had read Hogwarts, A History, a book that she had persuaded her father to let her bring, enough times to memorize a majority of the book, and she found out if she recited it line by line, she could often block out Lavender's obsessing. The girl was nice to talk to when she talked about anything other than Abraxas and Gabriel, but Hermione soon found out that unfortunately, that rarely happened.

As for Lord Malfoy, he hadn't forgotten about her little dinner stunt. As soon as he had his wand again, she was under the Cruciatus Curse. Thus began the string of Cruciatus Curses that he placed on her. He called her to his study when he was bored, and cursed her for fun. Gabriel often came to watch, sitting on the sofa next to where she lay, leering at her the whole time. Lady Malfoy was rarely present, which Hermione was thankful for, and Abraxas never wasted his time. Even though she barely felt the pain anymore, it was still embarrassing nonetheless to be wriggling on the floor like a worm.

Abraxas himself was a complicated mystery. He wasn't cruel to her as his parents were—Hermione found out quite quickly that Lady Malfoy could hold her own Unforgivables—nor as perverted as his older brother. He seemed out of place, almost, in this family of purebloods. He rarely spoke; instead, he simply looked around with that calculating glance. However, Hermione liked him the best, as he hadn't showed any cruel nor disgusting intentions towards her, though he never showed any kindness to her either. She was just there, and Hermione was content with that.

Abraxas seemed to love flying, as Hermione would often see him circling the Malfoy's own Quidditch pitch. He brightened her day immensely, as she found that watching him fly would make her cleaning go much faster.

Harry, Hermione found out, was also a flying freak, and he would often watch the younger Malfoy with envy. Hermione herself couldn't find what they thought was so interesting about flying. Why risk falling off and killing yourself? What was so exciting about that? When she had voiced her opinion to Harry, he had stared at her like she had grown two heads, and then turned into Lavender, ranting about Quidditch and different types of brooms. Hermione had sighed and followed the green streak in the sky, wishing that she could get on a broom as easily as Abraxas could, and just fly away.

She had contemplated going to Antarctica once, to live with the penguins. She glanced down sorrowfully at the necklace. She couldn't go anywhere with that tracking device on her; her father would find her no matter where she hid.

Hermione sighed to herself, and then continued mopping the floor. Harry had been given the task of running to the nearest market to grab some fresh meat, a task originally meant for Lavender. However, the girl had fallen ill, and after some convincing from Hermione, a very irritated boy had headed out of the house. While usually Hermione would jump on any opportunity to go out of the house, she wasn't feeling up to it today. Someone had to take care of Lavender, and Hermione knew that she and Harry weren't on the best of terms. Harry wasn't as patient as Hermione was, and he had told Lavender to shut up at least three times in the past few days, wounding the girl more than a slap would have. Hermione had gotten close enough to Lavender to know that after her looks, Lavender prided her talking skills. The girl had studiously ignored Harry, and he had done the exact same. Hermione had become a messenger between them, and sometimes she just wanted to slap them both and tell them to stop annoying _her. _

After Harry had left, Hermione had fed Lavender some medicine and left the girl to rest. She had gone up to the fourth floor to clean the dusty windows when she saw Abraxas circling around the pitch, doing his daily training. Though Hermione would never admit it to Harry, and much less to Lavender, she enjoyed the time where she could just watch him. It was the way he seemed to lean fluently to one side, and then change to the other. It helped calm her. It also made her forget who she was, where she was, and why she was there. Flying, even if she was just watching, made her feel free.

Abraxas's flying was smooth too, compared to Harry's. Harry had told her cheekily his flying style, which led him to fall off his broom or get injured almost every time he mounted one. Hermione had snorted when he offered to teach her one day. She declined, ignoring the look of mock hurt that had arisen on his face, and then left him to his flying daydreams.

Hermione whistled as she wiped the windows. One year might pass faster than she originally thought it would, she mused happily to herself. Then she could get the hell out of the Manor and curse her father for making her come. Not that she could curse him, even if she wanted to, but it was a nice thought.

She used to spend her time daydreaming all different types of scenarios where her father would die, and she would be the one who would kill him. Then, one day, her father suddenly used legilimency on her. He had not been pleased to discover images of him being staked to the ground while she held garlic over his head. Hermione had learned occlumency after that, but she found that she could never keep him out completely. She now kept her daydreams to a minimum.

Hermione wiped her forehead off, gathering her stuff to prepare to go downstairs. Harry was a fast walker, and she was sure he would be back soon. She wanted to get him back for dumping a bucket of cold water on her head the last time she had been assigned to go to the market. She had only been given one piece of rag to wear, and it took her fifteen minutes standing there, dripping wet, for her wand to finally cast a drying spell. It had nearly exploded in the process. Harry had stood there laughing his head off the entire time.

She glanced one last time at Abraxas, and she immediately noticed there was something wrong. Hermione had watched him enough times to know how he usually flew. And she knew for a fact that Abraxas did not fly like he was being jerked off his broom. That was Harry's style, though Hermione doubted that even Harry would ride like that.

Before she had time to process it, though, she saw his broom charging towards the ground before throwing him off. He was tossed to the ground and skidded a couple of feet before finally stopping. The broom itself took up in the air again, jerking up and down before flying away, but Hermione's eyes were trained towards the ground. The figure did not stir.

Hermione dropped her equipment and clambered downstairs. None of the other Malfoys were home at the moment, so there was no one else to rescue him. Hermione pulled open the front door, ignoring as the cold winds bit at her legs, and ran towards the crumpled heap on the ground.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Small transition chapter with not really any plot, but it sets up some relationships to be used in the future. Tom makes an official appearance next chapter, so be sure to stay tuned.

* * *

><p><em>He's dead. <em>

Hermione sprinted towards Abraxas's fallen form, panic gripping her. She was not particularly scared of the punishment that would be inflicted on her if the youngest Malfoy happened to die, as there was nothing the Malfoys could do that would really hurt her, but Abraxas was a tolerable figure in Hermione's mind. She truly didn't mind him being alive, which was more than she could say for the rest of the family, especially Gabriel, whose perverted ways had only grew the more times Hermione came in contact with him.

She spotted a patch of blond hair sticking out of his green Slytherin robes as she neared him. Hermione was slightly relieved when she didn't spot any red, but it turned out she didn't have to search for long. She had reached him and found that his condition was pretty bad. Abraxas was groaning; the front of his robes stained in red. It seemed as if he had tried to use his chest to skid along the rough patches of grass and rocks when he fell. He had seemed to believe that that would have helped.

There was so much blood. She dropped down carefully next to him and prodded him with her finger. "Abraxas," She said gently, forgetting to address him by his title. She highly doubted that he minded at the moment, though. He was hardly in the condition to get up, let alone curse her. "Are you all right?"

Hermione thought that he was going to snarl at her and tell her to stop touching him because of her dirty blood, but instead he managed to roll his eyes and say sarcastically, "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. I just love bleeding my insides out for fun, don't you?"

Of course he wasn't. That was a stupid question. As gently as she could, she opened his green robes to see his chest filled with his blood. It was as if something had cut his body open, though it took the liberty of cutting everywhere instead of in a straight line.

"Hold still," She said when he squirmed in pain, accidently causing part of his robes to press against his injuries. "I'm going to heal you, but I'm going to end up blasting your head off if you keep moving around."

Hermione didn't know how he did it, with the amount of pain he was in, but he had stopped moving and looked her straight in the eye and said, "You're going to heal me?" He added in a deadpanned voice, clearly not believing her. "You don't need an excuse to peak at this unsuspecting, innocent, half naked man. Go ahead, look all you want." He smirked when Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "I'm sure, though, that you can understand my chest has seen better days,"

She rolled her eyes as Abraxas grinned at her. She could definitely see why he and Gabriel were related, but she was more surprised that he was trying to joke around with her. Hermione knew that if he weren't half dead, he would never be caught even talking to her. Maybe dying was like getting drunk, Hermione thought to herself. You wouldn't be aware of what you were doing.

"Yes, you are definitely what I would associate with the word innocent," Hermione said dryly, and Abraxas grinned, only to find it painful to do so. His hands curled together into fists and he breathed heavily. She looked into his eyes to gauge his reaction, only to find them shut. He seemed to be too out of it to even see her anymore.

"I'm going to heal you now," She said, though she might as well have been talking to herself. He made an indistinctive sound, and Hermione took that as an agreement for her to go on. Checking quickly to make sure his eyes were still closed—though she supposed by now, it didn't really matter anymore—she drew her real wand out of her pocket and started healing him. Her restricted wand would probably burst before it performed anything useful. Hermione soon found out that most of his injuries would need different types of potions, but at least she could get rid of the life threatening wounds first.

Hermione remembered that she had met a young girl named Luna Lovegood once at a wizard hospital. Luna claimed she was just a rookie in healing, but if what Luna did was a rookie, Hermione couldn't even imagine what an expert was like. The first time the two met, Hermione had a broken arm which had been caused by her father throwing her against the wall. It had been completely justified though; she had been rather disobedient, after all. Luna had been nice about it, not prying as the other nurses would've done. Instead, she healed Hermione quickly without asking any questions, and offered to teach her about healing.

Hermione had always loved knowledge, and Luna gave her books and advice, and soon Hermione found herself with numerous "accidents" to drive herself back to the hospital. After awhile, Hermione had learned everything she needed to know about healing, so there was no need for her to return to the hospital. She did anyways. Luna always welcomed her back with warm arms.

Of course, that was before her father decided to take things into his own hands. Luna was deemed a distraction, and if there was anything Grindelwald hated, it was distractions. He planned everything perfectly, and distractions were unnecessary and bothersome obstacles that he had to take out.

Suddenly, a hand gripped Hermione's wand and only her years of training kept her from shrieking out in surprise. She had been so lost in her memories that she forgot about what she was doing, forgot where she was. Abraxas's blue eyes stared at the piece of wood she was holding, and Hermione stared back at him calmly. If he wanted to fire her for having a wand, then so be it; she, however, did not feel obliged to showing pain and cowering before him.

"You healed me," Abraxas said simply, surprising Hermione. Not, '_You have a wand,'_ though Hermione could guess that was going to come right after. She simply nodded, obliviation becoming a welcoming thought. However, she had never been as good at the spell as her father; she often erased either too little or too much. Both, in this case, would be no use for her.

Her father never made her use that spell because he hardly left any of his victims alive; the killing curse was much more effective and it guaranteed eternal silence. It was much more useful, and Hermione herself had become rather good at casting that particular curse over the years.

"Pretty advanced magic," Abraxas mused, though Hermione wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself. He looked down at his chest, poking himself with one finger. "It doesn't seem as if I'm going to die. I feel much better now." He sat up, and then clutched his right shoulder, hissing slightly. "I spoke too soon."

Hermione tapped his shoulder with his wand. Abraxas looked at her, startled, and flexed his shoulders, surprised when no pain came. _Whoops_, Hermione thought to herself. _Guess I wasn't supposed to perform nonverbal magic. _

"Looks like they're home to enjoy the show," Abraxas grimaced, breaking the awkward silence between the two. He busied himself with checking to see if all of his body parts were present and working. Hermione could hear the sound of Lady Malfoy's high pitched voice giggling, followed by Gabriel's obnoxious voice saying something else. _Oh joy_, Hermione thought dryly. Her two favorite people were home.

Hermione got up, dusting her rags off. Only then had she realized how cold it really was outside. She shivered. Abraxas noticed as well, and stood up rather elegantly for someone who had just been dying the ground. She decided to humor herself and make the best of the situation. He raised an eyebrow when she ducked her head.

"I'm sorry, Master," She whispered, reverting back to his title, trying hard to keep the snigger out of her voice. Since she had just blown her own cover, she figured she might as well enjoy this whole 'maid' act while it lasted. "I shouldn't have done that. Please don't punish me," she forced her eyes downwards in a submissive gesture.

Abraxas was silent for a long time, and finally, Hermione looked at him to make sure he hadn't fainted and died. His icy blue eyes were piercing into her, as if judging her. Hermione had to keep herself from smirking; he was really playing the part of the stern master.

Too bad she wasn't the innocent, naïve servant he thought her to be.

Abraxas turned around and swiftly walked towards the mansion, but not before saying,

"Come to my room after dinner,"

ஐ

"You're an idiot,"

Hermione almost threw the carrot she was holding in her hands at him. As if she needed a lecture from him. She knew exactly what she was doing. "I _know_, Harry. Thanks for rubbing it in."

"Not only have you managed to break about fifty rules," Harry continued on, ignoring her. "But you have made yourself a potential threat to them. Purebloods hate threats. You have to know they're not going to keep you here after that."

"I know," Hermione grumbled, chopping at the carrot furiously. The pieces came out uneven, but she didn't care. If they had a problem with it, they could cut it themselves. It wasn't her fault anyway; she had never been told to cook anything before. This was all new to her. "What exactly do you want me to do about it?"

"Though," Harry mused, as if he hadn't heard Hermione at all. "After they give you your punishment, being released might be one of the happiest moments of your life."

Hermione glared at him, and he held his hands up in defeat. He still had the nerve to grin. "Just a thought."

If only that was true—punishment at the Malfoy Manor was just a rat compared to what her father could offer.

"I didn't tell you so you could make fun of me," Hermione sighed, throwing the chopped up pieces of carrots into a bowl. Oh, she was not looking forward to dinner. Because as soon as dinner was over, Abraxas was expecting her. And while he seemed to have everything planned out, she didn't know what to expect of him. Hermione didn't know what sort of voodoodoo thing he did in his free time.

_Come to my room after dinner._

Hermione almost snorted; so formal.

"I'm not making fun of you," Harry said, putting the eggplant he was holding onto the cutting board and thrusting his hands in his pockets, turning around to face her. "Why did you tell me, though? You obviously know this would happen. I'm obnoxious, and whatever comes out of my mouth will be obnoxious."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Can you imagine if I told Lavender?" She imitated Lavender's high voice. "_Oh Merlin, you saw Abraxas half naked! You're so lucky!"_ Harry snickered. Hermione continued, "Yes, I knew you'd be obnoxious, but I thought that after you had gotten over being obnoxious, you would take the news seriously and sensibly."

"Hey, I am taking it seriously!" Harry protested. "I don't know what you want me to say though! You'll just have to see what happens after dinner. Sorry, but there's nothing I can do for you, Hermione," Suddenly, his face lit up and he said, "Say, if you don't come back, can I have your wand?"

Hermione aimed a half hearted kick at him, which he swiftly dodged, laughing. However, his face then turned somber and said, "But seriously. Want me to take your shift tonight? I know you probably aren't ready to face them all yet, and dinner is supposed to be served in," Harry checked the clock hanging next to the doorway. "About ten minutes. Why don't you go and lie down for awhile?"

"No, I'll be fine," Hermione shrugged. Harry had assumed that this was a big thing, but frankly, Hermione wasn't worried about it the least. "Thanks for the offer."

They worked in silence for a couple of minutes, Harry whistling cheerfully. Lavender's elephant snoring could still be heard, and though the girl was getting better, Hermione still divided her shift between herself and Harry. They often ended up doing it together. It warded off any bothersome advances from Gabriel, who, though he could do no more than smirk and make a couple of crude comments, was becoming rather annoying. Upon hearing this, Harry had made it his duty to accompany her to jobs where she was alone. It was amusing to watch him pretend to be her bodyguard.

"Say, Hermione," Harry said, after cleaning himself off. Hermione turned down the stove and cocked her head to one side. "Where did you learn those healing spells, anyways? One doesn't just simply pick up a wand and know the incantations,"

"Oh, that," Hermione said nonchalantly, waving him off as she washed her hands. "I like reading."

"Reading?" Harry said incredulously. "Hermione, you're meeting with Abraxas in about an hour. You're going to have to come up with a better lie than that."

Hermione snorted. "I'm not lying, Harry," she said blandly, though she was. Though, it wasn't a complete lie. She had practice, of course, but she had started off through books. "I learned about most of it from books, though a friend did help me once."

Harry's eyes glimmered curiously. "Tell me about this friend."

"She was a healer," Hermione said shortly. She didn't want to share her past; it might arouse unnecessary suspicion from Harry. "She was a bit cuckoo, but other than that, she was brilliant. She was extraordinarily nice, too, and put up with me coming back to visit her every two days. Anyone who can put up with me for that long is extraordinary."

"Slightly cuckoo, huh," Harry grinned. "Guess you must've learned it from somewhere," This time, he wasn't quickly enough to dodge Hermione's well placed kick. "Ow, why do you have to be so violent?" He glared.

"Guess I must've learned it from somewhere," Hermione replied in a singing voice, and Harry turned around angrily, though not before Hermione saw a grin lighting up his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes as he dramatically ignored her. "Luna wasn't my type of cuckoo. She was, I slightly insane. She believed in Nargles. She would talk about them all day, and talk _to_ them all day, kind of like Lavender talking about makeup or you talking about Quidditch. Nonstop blabbering."

Harry laughed, but stopped when the dinner bell rang. "That's my cue," He said seriously, turning to Hermione. "Try to get some rest, will you? Relax, they won't kill you, not when they could get money for you when they sell you."

"Thanks, Harry. Real positive." Hermione snorted; she must've been an extraordinary actress, to have tricked him for so long. That or he was just extremely oblivious.

ஐ

Hermione opened the door to Abraxas' room, the first thought coming to her mind was how clean the ceilings were. She had never been assigned to clean Abraxas's room, as Lavender had always volunteered herself whenever either Abraxas or Gabriel had something they needed cleaning. She had known where it was, of course. Lavender had outlined it to her at least fifty times, but Hermione couldn't help but wish she just got lost in the mansion. So lost that no one, not even her father, could find her.

The room was bigger than the kitchen, if possible. One large king bed dominated the upper right corner of the room. The bed sheets were green with a huge snake slithering in the middle. _Typical Slytherin_, Hermione thought with a snort.

A closed closet stood next to the doorway, and a faint light illuminated the room. Abraxas himself sat on an armchair, looking out at the window. However, as far as Hermione could see, there was nothing out there. Just rows and rows of trees.

"Erm, Master?" Hermione said, slipping easily back in to her proper role. She was slightly surprised that neither his parents nor his brother was there. She had expected a full blown out torture. Abraxas shifted his head slightly so he could look at her, but he made no move to say anything or pull out his wand. "You requested my presence?"

His blue eyes raked over her, as if sizing her up. Hermione scowled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring back at him. He smirked and drawled slowly, "Come over here." He seemed very amused for some reason.

"Sit down,"

He hadn't gestured to anything, and Hermione eyed the empty chair next to him. Then, she glanced down at the floor and made a face. However, feeling rather accomplished that she had made it so far with her acting, she sat down on the floor.

Abraxas rolled his eyes and snickered darkly. "Where'd you get the wand?" Abraxas inquired. She must've scowled, because he chuckled and just shrugged, waiting for her to go further.

"I can't tell you," Hermione smiled innocently at him, cocking her head to one side for the effect. "But I'm sure you expected that answer."

Abraxas's facial expression didn't change, but Hermione saw it twitch with annoyance. Good. She was having fun annoying him. "Alright, then. Where did you learn that magic?"

"It wasn't that hard," Hermione rolled her eyes. Abraxas raised an eyebrow, and she added, "I read it in a book. Surely, you've heard of one before." She wondered why he didn't fire her quickly so she could get the hell out of the manor. Her cover was already blown, so why drag out the inevitable result? She decided to drop her servant act and got up, ignoring Abraxas' raised eyebrow, and sat down on his bed.

"In a book," Abraxas repeated, seemingly not believing her. She merely looked back at him, as if daring him to challenge her. Abraxas, instead, sighed and said, "Get off my bed."

"Make me," she taunted, bracing herself for any curses that he might throw at her. Her hand drifted towards her wand in her pocket as a precaution.

Abraxas rolled his eyes. "I think you might want to stand up. I have something that might interest you."

Highly doubting it, Hermione stood up anyway and said, "Well, I'm up. What do I get?"

"Show me a stunner,"

He leaned back in his chair comfortably. Hermione mentally rolled her eyes; he didn't want her to perform a stunner. Her father made her into a dueling freak; as soon as she got in to dueling mode, she could not stop until her opponent was defeated or she was unconscious. It was something her father considered a gift, while she considered a curse.

She pulled out the restricted wand that the Malfoys had given her, and then stared at it hard, trying and failing miserably at intimidating it. She heard Abraxas snort in the background, but she ignored him.

"Stupefy," She said, not surprised when a few measly sparks crackled out. She cut him off before he could speak. "See these wands that you give us? They'll blow up the house before anything good ever comes out of them." Abraxas looked amused at her little rant. Hermione, however, was still muttering angrily to herself. "Can't even cast a stunner. Stupid piece of wood."

"Right," He drawled slowly, and Hermione closed her mouth. "How did you know the incantation then? I didn't tell you."

"Object seems to have a case of short term memory loss," Hermione mused, and Abraxas scowled at her. "I told you already; I learned it from books."

Abraxas looked very amused for some reason. "Can you even read?" he asked finally.

Hermione was thoroughly offended. "For your sake," she snapped at him. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Pretend away," he cracked the first grin that she had seen since she had gotten here. He looked thoughtful. "This is the first time that I've been spoken too like that by a servant," he said, though Hermione could tell that the troubled look on his face was just to humor her. "I'm not entirely sure what I should do."

Hermione decided that anyone who could put up with her talking back to them was worth her time, and she suggested helpfully, "You could let me go."

"Something tells me that you're going to do so whether or not I give you my permission."

Hermione smirked. "It's like you've known me for years."

Abraxas remained quiet for a few minutes, though Hermione could see the grin he was trying to hide, before nodding slowly. "Alright. You are dismissed."

Hermione smiled sweetly at him, and then headed towards the door. However, he called out, "Oh Hermione?" He still hadn't faced her, but it didn't slip by her that he used her first name.

Hermione grinned. "Yes Master?" she said mockingly.

Abraxas cracked a small smile. "Meet me here after breakfast tomorrow," he said simply. Abraxas waved his wand, and the door slammed in Hermione's face. Hermione stared at the door, before shrugging and then heading back down to the kitchen.

"That went rather well," she mused to herself.

ஐ

The only thing that she regretted about her evening was the fact that when she got back to the servant headquarters, Lavender bombarded her with questions.

Harry hadn't been helpful either. Apparently, Gabriel had given him a hard time when he found out "his favorite brunette" wasn't serving him and was ditching him for his brother. Harry had came back to the servant's quarters, grumbling and was rather moody. He had locked himself in his room and ignored the world. Hermione didn't blame him; Gabriel could be annoying when he wanted to be.

Thankfully, Lavender had agreed to go back to working, so Hermione wouldn't have too much work, but she would only do so if Hermione promised to tell her exactly what happened with Abraxas. Hermione found it quite entertaining to make up the story as she went, telling how she was cowering on the floor while Abraxas stood above her with a whip. Lavender seemed to believe every word that came out of her mouth, and Hermione barely restrained herself from laughing at the absurd things that she said.

When Hermione left to go to Abraxas' room again, Lavender shot her a wink. _Ah_, Hermione thought to herself. _She misinterpreted the whole thing. No wonder she wasn't scarred for life at the images I tossed at her._

Hermione found the door unlocked, but the room empty. Abraxas must still be at breakfast. Quickly, she did a small scan around the room, out of habit, but found nothing of importance. Her presence at this mansion was unnecessary, as she had told her father. There was nothing here of interest, nothing here worth her time.

Why couldn't he just enroll her into Hogwarts? Albus Dumbledore was _there, _not here. Grumbling slightly, her eyes fell on a blank black book on his desk. It looked like a diary. Hermione snorted. Abraxas didn't seem like the type of person to keep a notebook of his life. However, the closer she got to it, the more she could feel the power rolling off of it.

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she opened the diary. It was blank; no sign of ink nor stains on its pages. Hermione stared at it uncomprehending, trying to figure out what its secret was, but before she could investigate further, she heard footsteps pounding down the hallway. Sighing, Hermione closed the book and put as much space as she could between the desk. She was aware, that as she paced back and forth in the room, she looked anything but innocent. Abraxas burst in a few minutes later.

He blinked when he saw her. "What are you doing in here?" He asked.

"I'm just looking out the window," He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She simply stared back. "It's a really nice view, isn't it? Lots of green trees."

Abraxas looked at her, but didn't say anything. Instead, he sighed, raked a hand through his hair, and sat down in his arm chair. "Sit down," He ordered, but then noticed what Hermione was doing, and then amended his command. "On the chair."

"I like the bed," she shot back, raising an eyebrow in a challenging gesture. Abraxas rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion with his hands and Hermione sat down happily.

"So, don't think I've forgotten the fact that I found you with a wand," Abraxas said. Hermione merely shrugged. Did he regret not turning her in yesterday and was going to do so today? She still had no doubt she could easily escape should it come down to that. What she was going to tell her father, however, when she got back, she still didn't know yet.

"I propose a trade," He declared. Hermione stared at him, prompting him to go on. "My proposition is," Abraxas drawled slowly and dramatically, and Hermione rolled her eyes as he dragged it out. "I won't tell anyone about your little stunt yesterday, but you have to help me with my summer homework,"

Hermione blinked. "Summer homework," she repeated. A sudden light bulb popped up in her head; the summer homework was no doubt linked to Hogwarts. This was probably the closest she could get to Hogwarts. She would be a fool not to accept.

"You clearly haven't seen my homework," Abraxas shrugged. "Transfiguration is terrible. The Old Codger gives out so much unnecessary homework," He grinned. "Sorry, that's Tom's name for old Dumbledore. The two of them don't get along well together." Abraxas paused, frowning slightly. "Actually, that's an understatement."

"You got yourself a deal," Hermione smirked and offered him her hand to seal the deal. Abraxas looked at it curiously, but decided to play along with her and shook her hand.

"What if I didn't understand Transfiguration?" She asked after they had let go of each other's hands.

To her surprise, he chuckled softly and said, "I'm quite surprised you lasted so long when your real personality differed so much from the one you were trying to portray," Hermione grinned proudly. "I could tell that you were smart enough to understand this," He said simply. "I don't know how you do, and I'm not asking you to tell me. All I'm asking is for you to help me with my homework. My family will never know." He raised his eyebrows at her. "And I thought, who wouldn't want to help this poor, failing boy?" He gestured dramatically towards himself.

"Alright, get out your book," Hermione rolled her eyes. This didn't seem quite fair from his side of the arrangement, as Hermione felt as if she was gaining the most here. She got to keep her position as a servant at the Manor—though a part of her had wished he kicked her out so she wouldn't have to act any longer—and he also offered her books to read. However, Abraxas seemed happy with the arrangement as well, a triumph look crossing his face.

"Where are you?" Hermione flipped to the middle of the packet and found it blank. Black ink filled the page, and she took a moment to drink it all in.

"Funny you should ask," Abraxas grinned sheepishly. "I actually haven't started yet."

ஐ

This was ironic, Hermione mused quietly to herself a couple days later, as she lay on bed as Abraxas scratched his head, staring irritably down at his parchment. _What would my father say if he saw me now?_

The two of them spent increasingly more time with each other as days past. It had become the point past where she was just his homework tutor and he was just her student and her boss. Hermione herself had even begun to warm up to him, something that she hadn't done for a long time. And she could only assume that since Abraxas seemed happy enough, he didn't particularly mind her presence either.

The major downside was, though, Hermione had thought Lavender was chatty in the beginning when she first met her, she was _nothing_ compared to what she was now. She had demanded to know where Hermione was creeping around to every day, only to hear a 'It's none of your business, Lavender.' And it really wasn't, though Lavender took the response suspiciously and began snooping around.

The two of them kept up their acting in public. To everyone, Abraxas still ordered Hermione around calmly when they weren't alone, and Hermione still responded timidly, addressing him by his proper title. Abraxas would sometimes slip and accidentally grin, but his parent's took it as an evil snarl and encouraged him to continue.

If there was an award for the stupid, this family would be major contenders.

Gabriel still annoyed her to no ends, but there was nothing she nor Abraxas could do about it but ignore him, though the latter often shot dark scowls at his brother when he wasn't looking. Hermione himself made faces at his retreating back; she hated not being able to do it in his face.

As for Lord and Lady Malfoy, they rarely punished her, because there was nothing she was doing. To them, she was still the dutiful servant, doing everything she was told to do.

Harry, she could tell, was disapproving of her little interactions with Abraxas, though ee never demanded any explanation from her. She gave him a mirror that Abraxas had given her that allowed the user to talk to whoever they wanted to, as she had no use for it. Harry spent hours talking to his friend, though he wouldn't give Hermione any clues. The only thing she could figure out from occasionally sneaking a peak was that the mysterious person had red hair. _Very_ red hair.

"Hermiooonnnne," Abraxas whined, scribbling furiously over his paper. It had only taken him a day to show his true colors: a fully grown, immature baby. Hermione looked at him, but said nothing. "Help me, I can't do this. It's too hard."

"You have a textbook right in front of you," Hermione pointed out, returning to the book she was reading. She was about halfway through the Malfoy library. She could start rereading books in about a week. "Use it. The answer's right in there. I checked already."

"I don't see why you can spend the effort to find it in the text, but you won't leave the page open for me to copy the answers." Abraxas grumbled. "This requires too much effort."

Hermione merely shrugged, and stared out the window. The sky was a pleasant blue, but she could see the tinges of black thunder clouds rolling in. They were going to be hit by a storm sometime soon. _Nothing's ever peaceful for long around me_, Hermione thought sadly. "Do your homework by yourself, Abraxas."

"Merlin, I hired you to do my homework for me, not to be my slave driver," Abraxas muttered darkly, flipping furiously through the textbook. He apparently cut his finger on a page, as he swore loudly and glared at the textbook as if it had done something wrong. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and waved him off.

They worked in peaceful silence. It usually didn't take Abraxas _too_ long to get over his hissy fits and work by himself, tossing Hermione a book to entertain herself. When she was back home living with her father, he _never_ allowed her to touch any books. Any knowledge she would get would come from him, and he made sure of that. However, he never considered that his obedient little daughter would dare to sneak to the library at night. Hermione reassured herself that the books were too alluring, and if it was anyone's fault, it was theirs, not hers.

"I forgot to tell you," Abraxas's smooth voice interrupted her reading, and she looked up, scowling. She had gotten to a particularly good theory about animagus, and she didn't want to stop now, certainly not to answer one Abraxas's ridiculous questions or his pleas for help. She knew he was smart, but sometimes he acted stupid just to spite her. He held up his hands, grinning.

"No need to be so angry," He said easily. Hermione noticed he had put his quill down. So it wasn't a homework question. "I just wanted to say that Tom will be coming later today. He's my friend that I mentioned," He twitched slightly at the mention of 'friend.' Hermione raised her eyes suspiciously, but didn't comment. "He'll be staying for the rest of the summer."

Hermione nodded again. "You're saying that this deal is completed?" She asked.

"Nice try, but you're not escaping that quickly," Abraxas grinned. "I'm not done with my homework yet, and your debt is not yet paid," He added after a small pause. "Though you really aren't helping now anyways. But can you come up here after ten each night? We can spend an hour together. Tom usually goes to sleep before then."

"Yeah, sure," Hermione nodded. She didn't think it'd work, but it was worth a try. She smirked. "Funny how you know when he goes to bed. Slightly suspicious, don't you think? Is there something you haven't been telling me?"

Abraxas's face flushed dark red, clashing horribly with his hair, and Hermione laughed at the bewildering sight. "You don't know what you're saying," Abraxas muttered darkly. "Tom and I, that's so wrong, it's not even funny."

He had trailed off and stared into space. Hermione hopped off the bed and told Abraxas that she'd be back later. She didn't think he even heard her. As she left, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

Abraxas was massaging his left arm as if it burned.

* * *

><p><em><strong>To Be Continued…<strong>_


	3. Chapter 2 His True Face

**Author's Note: **Here you go, last chapter of the week, probably. Tom makes an official appearance, and you get to be the judge of him.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

Special thanks to my beta, AllShadesofGrey! *showers with cookies*

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><p><em>Everything's going well.<em>

_~HG_

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><p>Lavender was in tears when Hermione saw her in the kitchen. She had just gone all the way up to the fourth floor of the Manor, getting lost at least twice trying to find the Owlery, only to be greeted by her sobbing friend when she returned. Hermione's headache only increased, and she massaged her temple tiredly. This was not a good time for one of Lavender's rants, though to Hermione, it never was.<p>

Hermione had had a nervous spaz on her journey to the fourth floor whenever the floorboard creaked or a rat scuttled by. She hated all this sneaking around and knew that she would receive terrible punishment if they were to catch her going to the Owlery without permission, but her father had demanded a report every week. So far, she had nothing report, so she scribbled down as little as she possibly could without annoying her father, and sent an owl into the afternoon sky.

"We have a guest tonight!" Lavender bawled before Hermione had a chance to speak. She was completely baffled by Lavender's strange behavior. Her usually cheerful face was covered in tears and Hermione would've felt sympathetic towards her if she hadn't been _so damn loud_. "_Tonight! _In two hours! It's terrible!"

"Yeah, so?" Hermione looked at her friend, wondering what the big deal was. "We've known that the Riddle guy will be coming since the day we got here. Why so upset now?" Hermione glanced towards the stew heating up on the stove. It seemed alright. It didn't look like Lavender screwed up the cooking.

"Abraxas is inviting someone over?" Lavender replied, surprised, momentarily forgetting about her depression. "I didn't know that. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm surprised you didn't know," came Harry's voice as he stepped back into the kitchen after a quick shower. His hair was slicked back, still wet and sticking all over the place, though it was the neatest Hermione had ever seen his hair. "Hermione's been talking about it so much, I couldn't forget, even if I wanted to. She's obsessing."

Hermione glared at Harry, and turned away. It was true though; out of all of Abraxas's friends, he had talked about Riddle the most, though Hermione could figure out through Abraxas's expressions while he was talking about him that the two weren't exactly typical 'friends.' Hermione was very excited to meet him, even though she couldn't converse with him without blowing her cover. She had found out through Abraxas that Riddle was ridiculously smart. Hermione loved smart people, almost as much as she loved books. She couldn't even wait to hear him speak.

"Oh, really?" Lavender asked, suddenly curious. Hermione groaned; leave it to Harry to pique up Lavender's interest. She did not want to listen, nor explain anything. She had begun a comparison chart just the night before, comparing Grindelwald's presence and Lavender's rants. So far, Grindelwald's presence was winning.

Lavender's voice only intensified Hermione's headache as she continued. "Tell me about this Riddle guy."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know that much. Abraxas said that he's pretty good-looking though, so you can have something to look forward to." She hoped Lavender would decide to shut up and drown herself in her daydreams.

No such luck.

Instead of looking pleased like Hermione expected her to, Lavender looked downright horrified. "Pretty good-looking?" she shrieked, and Hermione fought the urge to cover her ears. Harry, apparently, wasn't so nice, as he fished out some earplugs from his pockets and plugged them in his ears. Lavender didn't notice. "Oh no, that means that Abraxas is out of the running too. What am I going to do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. I'm a hundred percent positive there is no romantic relationship or attraction between Riddle and Abraxas at all." She bit back from adding that there wasn't any chance for a relationship between Lavender and Abraxas either, and while she normally wouldn't hold back from being blunt, the girl looked depressed enough as it was, and Hermione was sure that another screech from Lavender and her head was going to fall off.

"Funny how you should know that, Hermione," Harry suddenly grinned, nudging her side playfully. Hermione didn't like the look on his face. "I don't think I've ever seen you so avidly defending something before. Are you sure there's nothing you would like to tell us?"

Hermione glared at her friend, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Lavender's face light up like nothing happened, like she wasn't just washing the kitchen floor with her tears. Sighing, she interrupted Lavender before the girl could start interrogating and ranting. "No, absolutely nothing, Harry."

"Such a shame," Harry replied cheekily, before turning towards Lavender. Hermione wanted to wipe the grin off of his face. "Well, if Hermione here happens to be wrong, you always have Gabriel to run to, don't you?"

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and glowered at Harry. "Hermione Granger is never wrong," She said in her best bossy voice. _To be wrong makes someone right_, her father had always told her. _To be wrong puts someone above you._

Harry just grinned at her, while Lavender's face fell again. The girl sure had a lot of mood swings, Hermione thought. Hermione wondered absentmindedly if Lavender was pregnant and she had somehow missed it.

"But that's the thing!" Lavender wailed, and Hermione was afraid that one of the Malfoys would pop in the kitchen and curse them for slacking. She didn't know how they could not hear the shrieking girl. Hermione cursed her ears for being so sensitive. "Gabriel's bringing his girlfriend tonight! I just found out earlier. He has a girlfriend. He's not available anymore." She dissolved in tears.

Hermione shot Harry a glance, but he just shrugged. _He'd never want to date you, and you don't want to date him anyways_, Hermione refrained from saying. While that would've been a perfectly acceptable thing to say in front of her father, it looked like there were different standards outside on what was 'nice' and what was 'mean.'

"It looks like Gabriel's all grown up now," Hermione opted to say instead. "Since his girlfriend's here, he'll stop bothering me." _Thank Merlin_, she added mentally.

"How can you say that?" Lavender screeched, and Hermione winced as the sharp noise cut through her brain. That was it; it was going to burst. Maybe provoking the girl wasn't the best idea. "He's the best thing that has ever happened to me here! He's been so nice to me. I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand." Sniffling loudly, she climbed down the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

Hermione sighed, and caught the amused glance that Harry was giving her. "Don't say anything," she warned him, taking out a piece of juicy steak. Dinner had to be absolutely perfect tonight, though Hermione had no idea why. Maybe she really was as Harry said, obsessing over someone who was out of her league. "One more word and my head is going to explode."

"I wasn't going to," Harry said, and then added after a small pause. "You did that on purpose though. Don't you think you should have sympathy on the poor girl? She really believes she's in love with him, you know?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort. Lavender was a lost cause sometimes, but if Harry, too, sided with her, she didn't know what to do. Abraxas was nice, but they were on different social levels. She had to converse with people on her own social class, shouldn't she? However, she spotted the corners of his mouth fighting to switch up, and she smacked his arm, careful not to use too much force. "Harry, you're worse than me!" She exclaimed. "It's not nice to make fun of her." Making fun of people couldn't hurt anyone, but she kept her mouth shut.

Harry simply shrugged and said, "Not that I'm complaining about your lovely presence," He said, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. "But don't you have an appointment with a certain blond prince? I'm sure he wouldn't like that you keep him waiting."

One glance at the clock informed her that she was already five minutes late. Quickly, she rinsed her hand and tossed the knife and the fork in her hand across the room. Harry's eyes widened as they landed neatly in the cabinets. "Bye," she said, the word foreign in her mouth. She had never bid someone farewell before; she simply left.

Harry, however, was still staring at the silverware with his mouth wide open. Grinning slightly, she hurried out of the kitchen.

ஐ

Hermione opened the door slowly. She had been to the room so many times over the past few days she had memorized almost every aspect of it, but it still sent the chills down her spine whenever she entered. But then again, the whole manor had that effect on her. There was just something gloomy about the entire place.

She was sure that if her father had a manor, it would look like this. However, he was always on the move, too busy and paranoid to stay in one place for too long. And wherever Grindelwald went, she went.

The room was illuminated only by the setting sun, and Hermione spotted Abraxas quickly. He was standing near the open window, the wind blowing softly at his hair. The sun cast a shadow on his figure, and Hermione noticed how pale he really was. Hermione could definitely see why Lavender obsessed with his looks. He certainly wasn't ugly.

She stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Upon hearing the sound, Abraxas turned his head, his eyes piercing into hers. It held none of the warmth she had been used to seeing for the past few days. Instead, they were as cold as the tundra. Panic gripped her; did he find out about her mission? Was her owl intercepted? Hermione shuddered to think of all that could've gone wrong.

Abraxas looked at her lazily, cocking his head to one side and said, "You're late," He raised his finger and beckoned when Hermione opened her mouth to explain. "Come here."

Hermione took a step closer, still slightly worried about his weird behavior, but Abraxas shook his head. "Closer," he said, and then snorted when she took another tiny step. "We don't have all day. Get over here."

Hermione slowly walked over to him. He was taller than her. Hermione only reached his chin. It had never bothered her before, but now she felt strangely annoyed that he could look down on her.

He said quietly, "Look out the window. Tell me what you see."

Slightly startled, Hermione took her eyes off of him and stared outside. "I—er—see trees?" She didn't know what he wanted to hear. There were millions of things she could name. "And the sun, and the sky," She turned back towards him, confused.

Hermione could swear she saw him grin, but when she looked back towards him, his face was blank again. "What do you see to the left?"

Now slightly suspicious, she did as he asked and stuck her head out the window, looking to the side. She saw nothing out of ordinary, just endless rows of trees and the beautiful sunset. There were no windows where her father resided. Having being deprived of the sun for so long, it was now one of the most beautiful things that she had ever seen. "I don't see anything that's not normal," She said, slightly uneasy now. His mysteriousness reminded her of Grindelwald."Abraxas, are you-"

She suddenly felt his hands on her back, and before she could process what he was doing, she felt him give a small push. Losing her balance, she fell out the window, shrieking and flailing, the ground becoming closer and closer. She could suddenly not find her wand in her pockets, but it didn't matter. She was going to hit the ground before she could cast any spell, anyways.

_I'm dying. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Splat goes the traitor. _Hermione would've laughed if she weren't so terrified.

Just as her face was going to be introduced to the ground, she felt strong arms encircling her waist, and she jerked upwards. The ground got farther and farther away, but Hermione could barely register it. Her mind was a mess, and she was shivering uncontrollably.

A strong laugh echoed in her ear. "Well, Hermione," said Abraxas's gleeful voice. It held none of the coldness that it had moments ago. Hermione was too scared to feel relieved, though. Flying was one of the only weaknesses she had. It was one of the only things that could get her demeanor to slip. "That was fun. Want to do that again?"

Hermione breathed heavily, trying to calm her fast beating heart. When she was sure she was in no danger of puking if she opened her mouth, she turned around to glare at him. Her father had always taught her that sometimes, speaking calmly was just as intimidating as hollering. She took a deep breath and said to his insufferable grinning face, "Are you kidding me?"

He just chuckled and dodged her weak attempts to punch him. She was still trembling. Grindelwald always thought it was weird how she could withstand hours of torture, while pick her up five feet and she'd be shaking all over. "I must be better at acting than I originally though," he said happily. "This worked better than I planned. I didn't expect you to listen to me, but you even went and made it easier for me by sticking your head out the window."

"You pushed me out the window," Hermione stared at him accusingly, jabbing his shoulder with her finger.

"So I did," Abraxas said, his mouth close to her face. It felt strangely nice. His eyes were a beautiful twinkling blue, illuminated by the beautiful sunset in front of them.

"Why?"

Abraxas gestured around him. "So I could take you flying. You said you never had the chance to, so here we are," It was then Hermione realized just where she was. She had been so focused on yelling at Abraxas that she hadn't noticed the two of them currently sat on a broom thirty feet in the air, her feet skimming over some of the taller trees. The mansion was a black spot in the distance, and Hermione was too aware that they were flying in the wrong direction. "It's not so bad, is it?"

"Let me down!" She suddenly shrieked, her calm act going right out the window. She startled Abraxas so much he almost let go of his grip on her. "There's a reason I don't fly! I'm afraid of heights!" She grabbed the broom with both hands, her knuckles quickly whitening. This was _not_ fun.

Abraxas pressed his mouth to her left ear. "Now, Hermione, try something fun once in a while." He whispered, his words barely coming out as more than a breath. "Do you honestly think I'd let you fall?"

Hermione shook her head, but couldn't stop herself from looking down. She trembled, noticing how they were gathering elevation. "No, but please," She hated how she was pleading. If there was one thing her father hated, it was for her to beg. _She_ hated begging. "Let me down please,"

Abraxas's lips quirked and he chuckled, gently turning her around so she was facing forward instead of looking at him. "I honestly doubt you want me to let you down here," He snickered. "It's about a fifty foot fall by now. I don't think you'd make it down alive. Some of the trees down there have a lot of branches. You'll probably have fifty holes through your body by the time you get to the ground."

Hermione gulped. She had enough near death experiences for a lifetime. "Can you fly closer down to the ground? I'll get off, and you can continue your training. I wouldn't want to bother you with my presence." She looked at him hopefully.

Abraxas laughed. "Just close your eyes," He told her. "You're only scared because you see how high we are. If you close your eyes, you can just feel." He sighed when she was still hesitant. "Come on, I'm a good flyer. What, you don't trust me?"

"I have a perfectly good reason not to," Hermione muttered, but closed her eyes anyways. Abraxas was right; it was much better when she didn't see how high up she was. Her lack of sight made her feel more secure. She didn't relinquish her tight hold on his broom, though. "I found you bleeding on the floor because of your flying skills."

"Don't remind me," Abraxas groaned. "One of my rather unflattering moments."

"You seem to have a lot of those."

"Don't tease me, Hermione," he said, but Hermione could hear a grin in his voice. "You forgot where we are. One more mean word from you, and you might just find my arm slipping," As if to prove it, Hermione felt with horror his arms moving away from their tight grip around her waist. She yanked them back.

"You wouldn't," Hermione wanted to glare, but didn't dare to open her eyes. It ruined the effect. He merely chuckled.

"I would," Abraxas replied cheekily, and then added in a mischievous voice, "Since you're all settled down now, let the real fun begin." Before Hermione could protest, he maneuvered the broom, zigzagging it across the sky at speeds she didn't even know were possible. When Hermione had made the mistake of pinching him, he had grinned and flipped them upside down.

There were some days Hermione really hated her father. And as she sat on the broom as Abraxas flew around like a manic, she really hated Grindelwald for sending her on this mission, which was clearly suicidal.

ஐ

An hour later, Hermione found herself cleaning up the main ballroom, her attempting to calm herself down. As soon as Abraxas had let her down after performing his stunts, she had promptly socked him in the balls and left him there in pain. He deserved it anyways; he _did _push her out the window, and he even had the nerve for making fun of her ungraceful drop. Though, it was the most fun she had had in a long time. However, being Grindelwald's daughter, she inherited every bit of stubbornness he had in him. And when Abraxas asked her how the ride was, she told him it was the worst experience in her life.

A look of hurt crossed his face, but Hermione shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to steal something to eat.

Gabriel's girlfriend, Walburga Black, was subject to arrive in any moment. Riddle would be coming just before dinner, so Hermione didn't need to expect him for a while.

As for Abraxas, he had refused to give any information about Walburga, claiming that if he were to open his mouth about her, nothing good would spew out. He and his brother really were different. Hermione didn't know how she could've confused the two of them on her very first day.

She had then asked about Riddle. Abraxas's expression instantly changed, his grin sliding off his handsome face.

"What do you want to know about Tom?" His voice was guarded, his eyes missing the familiar light she had been so used to seeing. She had shrugged, not knowing what she wanted, really. She just wanted information. He sighed.

"Tom is complicated," Abraxas finally admitted. "He's dangerous, so don't get too close to him. However, he's-" He struggled to find a word. "Nice. He can be nice when he want to."

"Nice," Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, nice." He nodded. "People think wrongly of him a lot. In reality," He seemed to glance towards his left arm nervously, but when she looked at it, she didn't see anything out of ordinary. "He's human. He often denies he needs friends, but then comes running back to them when he needs help. And he's one of those people who you want to help. It just makes you feel better, feel prouder."

"Sounds like he's spoiled," Hermione said. Abraxas's eyes only got darker, however, and he shrugged. The topic was then dropped.

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when the doorbell rang loudly. Making sure her wand was still tucked in place and out of sight, she wiped her hands off on her rags and opened the door. Outside stood a person dressed in green robes, just as Abraxas had been. Hermione's eyes wandered up their body and she looked into the dark eyes of—

_A man?_

"You're not Mistress Black," she said timidly, adding a little tremble for the effect. She took in his jet black hair that was parted towards the right. His eyes were blue as well, but not like Abraxas's. They were dark and guarded. His expression was indifferent, and his eyes swept over her lazily. Hermione didn't miss the look of disgust that crossed his eyes as he looked at her rags. He carried a small luggage with him, which was floating in the air behind him.

He raised an eyebrow, though Hermione couldn't tell if he was amused or angry. "No, I am not Walburga. Are you expecting her?"

Before Hermione had a chance to open her mouth and screw herself up again, Gabriel flounced down from his room. "Wallieee," he called, and then stopped short of the person in front of him. The boy had stiffened when he saw Gabriel, but inclined his head in a polite nod. Gabriel didn't seem to notice.

"Hello, Tom," Gabriel said, and Hermione stared. _That_ was Riddle? Hermione didn't know what she expected, but something less sinister. Abraxas made Tom sound like a celebrity. "We weren't expecting you to get here so early."

"Neither was I," Tom said smoothly, stepping into the house. The luggage floated in with him. Gabriel shot her a warning glance, and Hermione realized how rude she was being. She was a servant, standing there, eavesdropping on the conversation of two wizards. She'd just take the luggage and eavesdrop from the other room.

Bending her head down low so she could seem scared, she said in a measly voice, "May I take your luggage, Master Riddle?" She could feel his gaze on her for what seemed like forever, until he nodded ever so slightly. She seemed to pass his inspection as a slave, and she breathed out in relief. Another person fooled.

Hermione reached out to tug the floating luggage, but he cancelled the levitating spell as soon as she came in contact with it. Surprised by the sudden weight, Hermione's arms sagged with the weight, and she almost dropped the luggage on Riddle's foot. She caught it, barely, but by accident, her arm brushed against the ring on his left hand.

She had barely had time to register his eyes darkening before she was thrown against the wall, the luggage tumbling after her. The bottom bumped into her head, and the wheel cut through her skin, leaving a fresh raw mark. Hermione touched her head and felt liquid flowing from it. _Crap._ She looked up again, fearfully, and saw Riddle with a murderous glare on his face, and Gabriel snickering darkly next to him.

Hermione's eyes darkened furiously, and she had to struggle to regain a grip on her temper and not lash out at him. She wasn't going to blow her cover just because the stupid pureblood had anger management issues.

"Well, honey, I think I rather like you in that position," Gabriel sneered, and Tom looked at him in disgust, before continuing on to the living room as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just almost murdered her with his luggage. Gabriel had shot one last leer at her before following him. Hermione waited until she heard the living room door close before she started to get up, groaning as pain jabbed at her side.

It had been so long since she had been hit with a spell. Her father's, of course, didn't count. He cursed her for fun every day.

She glanced down at the luggage suspiciously. There was no way that was the Riddle Abraxas spoke so much about. There was no way that Abraxas would associate with someone so dark, so dangerous, so evil. What had he said? '_He's nice.'_ Yes, Hermione thought, snorting. He certainly was _so_ nice, wasn't he? Murdering a person at first sight just because they accidently brushed against him.

Abraxas, though he liked to deny it, was a nice person. Tom, though he tried to mask it with indifference, clearly was not. The two of them shouldn't mix. Just because they were in Slytherin didn't mean that they had to associate with each other.

_He's dangerous, so don't get too close to him._

That was the understatement of the year. Hermione shuddered, and pulled herself slowly to her feet. She was going to have to get herself down to the servant's quarters to fix herself up; she wasn't going to risk pulling out her wand right there. Hermione glanced down at Riddle's luggage, and was tempted to just leave it there, but decided not to. She had angered him enough, and if he cursed her again, she wasn't sure she could hold back.

When was the last time she had actually picked up something manually? Groaning slightly at the weight, she finally managed to balance it in her arms when a voice behind her spoke, startling her. She almost dropped it again, and refrained from spewing curses when the wheel of the luggage bumped into her side painfully.

"What are you doing?"

Abraxas stood in front of her, grimacing when he saw the streak of blood on her head. He wore a blank mask, but his eyes were staring at her in concern. He made no move to help her, though, and Hermione quickly found out why. Lady Malfoy was standing behind him, her wand in her hand, and she played with it idly. Hermione didn't drop her gaze, even though she knew it was disrespectful.

"Riddle is here," Hermione said, not risking a glance at Abraxas even though she wanted to. "He's in the living room. I'm taking his luggage to his room." She couldn't quite keep the exasperated tone out of her voice.

Abraxas nodded, though he raised an eyebrow at her flippant tone. He started pulling his mother towards the living room. However, before he could, a sinister grin crossed Lady Malfoy's face and she nonchalantly pointed her wand at Hermione. She saw it coming _hours _before it hit her, but there was little she could do without raising suspicion.

_This is going to be the death of me._

She was once again thrown against the wall, this time her hand landing at an awkward angle. She heard it crack, and winced in pain. The luggage fell right next to her, missing her completely. Layd Malfoy didn't seem to notice, but Abraxas glanced at her sharply. She maintained an blank look on her face. There was no need for him to know she could do wandless magic.

Lady Malfoy laughed, and then exited the room. Abraxas shot her an apologetic look, but didn't dare to help her. She would've refused his help anyways; she could handle a little blood. He hurried after his mother. Hermione waited until he was out of the room until she tried to get up. Making sure that they were both of the room, she levitated the luggage and quickly sprinted to Riddle's bedroom and deposited in his room. Then, before she could stop herself, she turned the whole room pink and sparkly.

She was walking down the hallway when she heard someone curse under his breath. She couldn't help but smirk as Riddle took in his bedroom with a disgusted look on his face. Still hidden from sight, Hermione quickly slunk away before he could notice her.

ஐ

"Hermione, I'm really sorry," Abraxas said, guilt etched on his face as he inspected her. Finding nothing out of ordinary, he sat back, but his worry was still evident. "I honestly don't know what happened to my mother, or Walburga, for that matter. They usually aren't like that-"

"Abraxas, all your blabbering is giving me a headache," She had noticed he hadn't apologized for Riddle, but decided to let it pass. "I'm fine. I've been through worse." She flexed her fingers slightly, wincing as a sharp stab of pain shot through her body. She had clearly not healed herself as well as she could have, but then again, she hadn't needed to in a long time.

She had meant to reassure him, but if anything, he seemed more worried. "You've had worse?" He asked, but Hermione didn't respond. There wasn't much she could've said, anyway.

Walburga flouncing down the stairs outside loudly. The girl had been nothing but trouble; she had cursed Hermione the second she had seen her, cackling gleefully.

"Dirty Mudblood!" she had sneered evilly as Hermione fell to the floor rather dramatically. Either the girl was really dense, or Hermione was a better actor than she originally thought. "This is where you belong! You have no right to stand on equal level as us. You belong on the floor, next to our feet." Hermione had felt a wave of pain hit her.

Hermione had caught Abraxas's eyes multiple times during the dinner, but she had shaken her head whenever he had glowered at his brother's girlfriend. It was just a little cursing, nothing Hermione hadn't seen before.

Walburga had also made Riddle hate her even more, if that was possible. Walburga had decided it would be extremely entertaining if she shot a spell while Hermione was serving him. Hermione and Riddle had currently been locked in a staring war when the spell hit her square in the back, causing Hermione to spill hot soup on Riddle's pants.

He was livid. None of the other occupants at the table made a move to help her, some of them even entertained by the show. Hermione had learned two important things from the dinner; one, Abraxas had avoided her eyes the entire time during Riddle's torture, which signaled to Hermione that there was something very fishy going on between him and Riddle.

Two, Walburga's cruciatus curse felt like getting hit with a pillow compared to Riddle's. Nevertheless, neither held a candle to her father's, and she made sure to not scream during either performance. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She saw Riddle's mask break slightly, showing hints of amazement that she hadn't emitted a sound, but she scurried away before he could do anything else to her.

Riddle himself was a puzzle, and a dark one at that. Hermione rarely feared anyone other than her father. She had never feared any of the Malfoys; sure, disgust at some times, but never fear. Nothing the Malfoys could do to her threatened or frightened her in any way. Her father had already done it all.

Riddle, though, might've broken Hermione's one person fear list. His face was always blank, never showing any emotions. He was no doubt handsome, as Lavender had constantly reminded her, and polite to the Malfoys and Walburga. However, Hermione had seen his true face, his scowl, his darkening glare. They weren't pretty. He was a two faced monster.

"Abraxas," Hermione said, and Abraxas looked at her, his face still full of regret. It was rather ironic that she had been the one who was hurt, yet she was the one comforting him. "Tell me about Riddle."

Abraxas sighed, raking a hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. "There's nothing really I can tell you about Tom." He said. "I've told you a lot about him already. Whatever you see is pretty much whatever you'll ever get of him."

Hermione stared at him. "So he's a prick." Grindelwald would be appalled about her small vocabulary, but she didn't care enough to learn bigger words just to insult someone else.

Abraxas looked away, and only shrugged. "You never know. People hold lots of surprises," He said hollowly, but Hermione noticed that he didn't deny what she said.

"Why do you even bother—" She never got to finish her sentence, as she heard footsteps pounding down the hallway towards Abraxas's room. Hermione glanced quickly at the clock; it was twelve. Why would anyone be visiting Abraxas at midnight? One glance at him informed Hermione that he didn't know either. Abraxas's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he stood up quickly, Hermione following the suit. His breathing had gotten increasingly faster, Hermione noted, as if he had just run a marathon.

"It's just Gabriel going to meet Walburga," he said, but he sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than her, but he didn't even need to bother. Neither of them believed it. If that had been the case, there would've been no need for Gabriel to come anywhere near Abraxas's room. He quickly opened his closet, and gestured for her to get in. "Hurry up!" he hissed at her when she looked at him hesitantly. "You don't have much time!"

Hermione got in without another word, and Abraxas quickly shut the door, placing a couple of locking spells on the closet. Just her luck, she was trapped. Maybe this was his plan the entire time; to pretend to be her friend and get her to lower her guard, and then trap her. If she ever got out of there alive, she was going to be more cautious. Her father would be livid if he heard about this.

Abraxas crossed the room in large strides as someone knocked on the door. Hermione could hear him open the door and said cautiously, "Hello, Tom,"

_The devil himself._

"Abraxas," came Tom's smooth voice. "May I come in?"

She would just have to stay in the closet and try to stay quiet. That would prove to be difficult, as Riddle seemed to be quite perspective of his surroundings. One simple small noise could tick him off, but they had no choice. Abraxas seemed to come to the same conclusion as well, as he muttered, "Come in. Make yourself at home."

Tom strode in leisurely, and Abraxas shut the door quietly. There was no crack between the closet doors, so Hermione could do nothing, but rely on her sense of hearing.

She heard the scraping of chairs. Hermione held her breath as Riddle sat down in the chair closest to closet. It was as though he knew she was in there.

_Did he?_

"So Abraxas," Riddle drawled slowly. "I have something I need to talk to you about."

**_To Be Continued…_**


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**I had a huge writer's block with this. I must've edited and changed it at least ten times, but I still don't like the result. Be nice and review anyways?

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

Thanks to my beta, AllShadesofGrey, for looking this over.

* * *

><p>The fire crackled loudly in the fire place, but Hermione paid it no mind. She was trapped inside a cabinet, and Riddle sat just outside. He was not any scarier to her when she was face to face with him, but confided spaces had always made her uneasy.<p>

"_I have something I need to talk to you about."_His words echoed in Hermione's brain.

"Yes, of course." Abraxas said, and Hermione detected a bit of concern and worry in his voice. How could he be _worried_ for Riddle? It made no sense. Riddle was evil, and he certainly did not deserve Abraxas's pity. She slowly opened the door and peeked outside. "You know you just have to ask, Tom."

She must've moved, because Riddle narrowed his eyes and whipped around. Hermione quietly closed the cabinet door and held her breath. He seemed to find nothing, and after what seemed like hours, he turned back towards Abraxas. Hermione waited a couple of seconds before risking opening the door again.

"I'm planning to go back to Little Hangleton in a couple of days." Abraxas had a look of confusion on his face, as Riddle sighed. "Little Hangleton is where my father lives, Abraxas. How many times do I have to tell you?" Hermione was surprised to see a mixture of different elements in his voice, none of them too pleasant. It sounded as if Riddle wasn't too fond of his father, but he didn't seem to be fond of anyone else either, so that didn't tell Hermione much.

"I see," Abraxas mused slightly, deep in thought. "What would you require of me, My L-" He suddenly cut off, wrinkling his forehead slightly. Hermione stared at him. His what? Riddle had also looked up when Abraxas had suddenly stopped talking, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, but Abraxas had bluntly avoided his eye, and Riddle had gone back to idly playing with his ring.

_The same ring that almost got me killed. It's so small. Looks can be deceiving.__ And then, rather conceitedly, she thought, __Look at me._

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me," said Riddle in a smooth voice. His head was cocked to one side, but his face portrayed nothing. It sounded like an order rather than a question.

Abraxas stared incredulously at Riddle, who met his gaze head on. It didn't seem as if this kind of offer was made regularly. Abraxas remained silent for a long time, shuffling nervously in his seat. After a few minutes, Riddle cleared his throat and sighed. "Spit it out,"

"Erm, is it money you wanted?" Abraxas asked in a small voice, not daring to meet the other's eyes. Riddle raised his eyebrows. "I know you haven't passed your Apparation test yet," Here, Riddle grimaced, but Abraxas didn't notice. "So it would be awfully expensive to travel to Little Hangleton. I'll make sure to pay for it, but I wouldn't want to bother you with my presence."

Riddle was silent for a while, his eyes trained on the other boy. Abraxas seemed to be incredibly fidgety today. Riddle's face, on the other hand, was far from pleasant. She had expected better behavior from Abraxas, who had talked about Riddle so much pride.

"You know I enjoy your company," Riddle said finally. "Is there a reason you do not want to accompany me?" His voice was calm, but even Hermione could tell that Riddle was angered. Abraxas was in the danger zone now.

Hermione could tell that Abraxas didn't believe it one bit, but he shook his head dutifully anyways. "No, Tom."

Riddle raised an eyebrow curiously. "There's no one around, Abraxas." Riddle's voice was still even, but there was an underlying threat to it.

Abraxas seemed to glance at the cabinet nervously. Hermione thought that her cover had been blown, but Riddle didn't even make an attempt to glance towards her hiding spot. Abraxas took a deep breath, before saying in a shaky voice, "O—Of course. I apologize, My Lord."

_My Lord?_

Riddle's mouth curled up into a sinister smile. "Very good. I missed hearing you call that." He paid no attention to the other boy, who was clearly uncomfortable. "I will be leaving on Friday, two days from now. I expect you to be all packed and ready to go before noon. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, My Lord."

Riddle nodded and rose up slowly and gracefully. Abraxas seemed to bow his head slightly, before mimicking Riddle's action. Hermione's brain was swirling with confusion. So many unanswered questions and not enough answers. "I will retire for the night. The journey has tired me greatly." Riddle said, smoothing out his robes. "Good night, Abraxas. I will see you tomorrow."

"Sleep well, My Lord."

Riddle's footsteps got further and further away until Hermione could no longer hear it. Abraxas sank down in his chair and let out a shaky breath, and then a laugh. It wasn't the laugh she was used to hearing. It was coarse and raw.

"Abraxas," she said, stepping lightly out of the closet.

Abraxas must've jumped a mile, whirling around, and his wand pointing towards her chest. Hermione raised her hands, eyebrows raised. It took Abraxas a few seconds to recognize who was standing in front of him. He breathed heavily before he put away his wand.

"Hey," He said quietly, massaging his head slowly. He suddenly looked tired. Dark, hollow circles were under his eyes. "I forgot you were there."

"Evidently," Hermione said, sitting down on his bed. It creaked slightly under her weight, but neither of them paid it any mind. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." He looked at her, already beginning to calm down. There was little trace of the vulnerable boy that had just been exposed. "Why would you think I wasn't?"

Hermione just stared at him, but he seemed to be perfectly serious. Either that or he was stupider and denser than she thought. Sighing, she changed the topic and asked, "Why are you friends with him?"

Abraxas's forehead creased. "Friends with whom?"

"Riddle."

He blinked; he seemed to have not expected her response at all. He was obviously distracted. "Why wouldn't I be friends with him? He is-" Realization dawned his face. "That wasn't what it looked like."

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What wasn't how what looked like?"

"Tom and my conversation." Abraxas closed his eyes and sighed. "There were some parts of that conversation that I didn't want you to hear. So even if you ask me about it, I will not answer, at least not now." He looked at her seriously. "I hope you understand."

Millions of questions were in Hermione's brain, threatening to spew out. However, she wouldn't force him. He would tell her when he was ready, and, well, she always had other methods if he didn't, didn't she? Sighing, she nodded understandingly. A look of relief crossed Abraxas's face.

"Alright, so," Hermione added suspiciously. He was not out of the woods yet. "Nothing's going on between you or Riddle?"

"Yeah. That was one of our better conversations, actually."

Hermione bit back any comment her opinion of what the conversation actually was, and instead said, "Why you were so nervous, then?"

"I told you already. I didn't want you to hear a lot of that conversation, but I couldn't stop it either. It would've looked too suspicious." Abraxas sighed. "I was nervous because you were there. I didn't want you to hear the conversation. It's embarrassing."

"Like the whole 'My Lord' business." She snickered at Abraxas's expression. He looked downright horrified.

Abraxas groaned and buried his face with his hands. "God, you heard that. It's so embarrassing."

"Merlin, you're such a wimp."

Abraxas's eyes flared defensively. "I'm not a wimp. Stop humiliating me." He glared at her.

"You _are_ a wimp. You're the one getting defensive about a single _name_. I don't see what's so bad about it. A little strange, yes, but it's not something like Valdymart or something." _Plus, my father makes me call him "My Lord" all the time._

Abraxas sighed. "Look, Hermione. I'm not who you think I am. I have another side of me, and I'm not proud of it. I'm a liar." He paused and looked at her straight in the eye. His eyes had never been bluer. "And it's up to you to uncover my lies

ஐ

"Damn it," Hermione hissed as her knife grazed her finger. There was a lot on her mind, and Hermione found it difficult to concentrate on her chores. Abraxas had refused to talk about the subject and after a while, Hermione gave up her prying. She had been very tempted to just probe in to his mind, but for the first time in her life, she decided to be decent and stay out.

_Who was Riddle, and what did he want?_

"Tough luck," Lavender chuckled, slicing a potato open. She, however, made no move to help Hermione. She scowled and reached for a band aid. "What's on your mind, girlie? You seem to be out of it today."

_You have no idea_, Hermione thought. Ever since Hermione had agreed to take on some of Lavender's jobs in order to prevent the girl from seeing Gabriel, she had become friendlier, though Riddle had played a huge role in it as well. Lavender had questioned Hermione excitedly about their dark house guest. What made Lavender think that she knew? She certainly hadn't been seeking Riddle's company. In fact, she avoided him whenever she could.

"Nothing," she shrugged. It would not do to waste her time going over such trivial matters. She was sure that Abraxas would spill some time or the other. She would save her amazing full-out investigation skills as a last resort. She could always try begging as well; not many people could refuse her puppy eyes. Then, noticing the girl still staring at her, she added politely, "What about you, Lav? What's on your mind?"

"Two words," Lavender said dreamily. "Tom Riddle."

Hermione looked at her in disgust, but Lavender just giggled. "Do I even want to know?"

"Of course you do. You have to admit you're curious." Lavender winked at her, and Hermione suppressed a groan. She always wanted to know a lot of things. Knowledge was the path to power, after all. However, this was one thing that Hermione could live without.

Lavender took her silence as an approval, when in reality, Hermione just couldn't find enough effort to respond. "I saw Tom Riddle." she said excitedly.

"So?" Hermione said, decidedly bored already. "Is that something special? I see him every day." _Unfortunately._

"Of course!" Lavender gushed, not picking up on Hermione's disinterest. "Though, that's not all! He even came over and introduced himself to me. He's so sweet. Have you noticed the way his hair is parted slightly to the side? So handsome." Lavender squealed, and then went on about how attractive he looked in his school robes.

Handsome, Hermione could agree with. Even though she disliked the wizard, Hermione had to admit that the boy was by no means ugly. However, sweet? _Riddle_? Were they even talking about the same person?

"Oh really." Hermione said flatly. Lavender nodded enthusiastically. "What exactly did you two talk about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Lavender giggled, causing Hermione to scowl. No, she did _not_ want to know, but she was curious as to why Riddle was suddenly showing interest in Lavender. He seemed like the type of person who would only associate with someone if they had something he wanted.

_That's it. Lavender's being used.__ Hermione glanced at the squealing girl. __Is that it, does Riddle just want a quick shag?_

"Alright, no need to get angry," Lavender was enjoying this way too much. "We didn't say much to each other. He just introduced himself, and asked how I was." Lavender squealed. "I could listen to his voice all day."

"So, that's it?" Maybe he was preparing himself, luring in his prey before he would strike. It certainly seemed plausible. To be honest, anything was more plausible than Riddle seeking a relationship with Lavender.

Lavender looked offended. "What do you mean, 'that's it?' This is only the beginning! Tom and I will have a beautiful relationship. Just you wait. We'll be happily married before you know it."

Hermione tried her best not to laugh outright. It was rude, but the girl sounded so innocent and naive. She could easily feed Lavender a whole bunch of lies, and she would believe all of them. Hermione wondered if there was anything that Lavender didn't believe. Thinking about it, Hermione missed the days where the world seemed so innocent to her, the days where she didn't fear anything but perhaps who got the last cookie. Not that those days lasted very long.

"Hermione!" The kitchen door burst open, and a very irritated Harry Potter came in, an angry barn owl fluttering behind him. His hair was messier than normal, if possible, and his glasses were lopsided. He was sweating, as if he had just been running. Harry looked extremely pissed off. "Get your damn owl off of me!"

Hermione looked at him, bewildered, then at the owl behind him. It was brown with spots, and looked rather plain. It stared defiantly at her with its beaky eyes. "It's not my owl, Harry. I've never seen it before."

"It has a letter on its leg," Harry growled, and with a closer look, Hermione realized there was. "It wants someone to take the letter off, but it stabs me when I try to take the letter off." To prove his point, he showed them his hands; it was scratches that were evidently caused by the owl's claws. "It looks like it only wants you to open it. It has your initials on the envelope." Indeed it did. 'HG' was written in big letters near the stamp.

"Ooh," Lavender squealed. "Who is this, Hermione? Your secret lover? This is so exciting! Hurry up, open the letter." Her gossip mode was obviously turned on, though Hermione wondered who she would share the information with. Riddle? He seemed like the only other person Lavender associated with. Hermione repressed a snort at the thought of Riddle gossiping.

"You will certainly not be looking," Hermione said firmly, though her mind was distracted. She was as clueless as Lavender. Who _could_ it be? The most plausible guess would be her father, but he wouldn't have been so obvious about his mail. It could be easily intercepted, and he wasn't one to take any chances. Abraxas? No, he could easily summon her to his room. It would take a lot less effort than to write out a formal letter and being the lazy couch potato that he was, he would've just spoken to her in person. Who else was there? If Riddle had decided to write her one, she would rip it into shreds and feed it to the toilet.

"Alright, that's enough. Give Hermione some space." Harry tugged a protesting Lavender out of the kitchen. The girl looked like she was about to throw a hissy fit. "Hermione, if you need anything, we'll just be downstairs. Don't hesitate to ask." He looked at her sympathetically.

She knew what he was doing. He was giving her another space to keep her privacy, yet staying close enough to offer her comfort if she needed it. Hermione nodded gratefully, and Harry closed the door behind him. She could still here Lavender's thumping all the way downstairs, but she didn't pay it any attention. She walked up to the barn owl, which had landed on the stove and was ruffling its feathers. The patterns on its wings were rather peculiar, but Hermione couldn't remember what its proper name was. It looked up with its beady eyes when she approached it, and flinched back slightly when she reached her hand out to pet it. It examined Hermione for a while, before sticking out its leg. She seemed to have passed its test.

"Thank you." She took the envelope. It felt small in her hands, though the blue shading of it was quite pretty. "I'm sorry I don't have any treats here. I'll run to the market later." The owl had simply looked at her, and then entertained itself by pecking at a stray spoon on the counter.

Trembling slightly from anticipation and nervousness, she opened the letter carefully. It had been sealed so perfectly; she didn't want to ruin it. However, she didn't want Lavender to change her mind and come back in either, so she didn't go too slowly. And who was she kidding? She was just as curious as Lavender was.

When she finally opened it, she was greeted with a messy scrawl that was vaguely familiar. Not quite sure what to expect from the content, she leaned back against the sink for support, and Hermione's eyes quickly scanned the lines.

* * *

><p><em>Yo, kiddo!<em>

_How are you doing? It's been so long since I have last seen you. Still remember me? I miss you so much. No one here is the same bookworm as you. It's kind of boring, actually. This is the one and only time I'm the smartest, and to be honest, I rather miss the competition. I don't know, there's some thrill in having my butt kicked by you. Call me insane, but it's true._

_I've decided to attend Hogwarts this fall. I spent the summer filling out all the paper work and all that crap. Dippet has already admitted me into the school, so I'm good to go. Remember how we used to laugh at the prospect of Hogwarts? It seemed as if a dream so far away. But now, I get to go. I get to be with other wizards and learn about magic. I'm so happy, but I wish you could be here with me, kiddo, to share the joy. I'm still waiting for the day we can walk through the gates together, to do homework together in the library like we used to. I toured the school last week. Remember how we drew what we imagined the library would look like? It turns out we were mostly right. Weird, huh? Now you just have to get your butt over here. Your dream library awaits you. You'll be surprised how many books are that you haven't read yet. The librarian is ridiculously nice here too. I guarantee that the two of you will hit it off quite nicely. Though, once you go in there, I'll probably never going to be able to get your attention ever again._

_Now is when you're going to yell at me because I haven't contacted you, right? And this is when I bore you of the details of my incredibly depressing life. I've been mostly on the run since you last saw me. Do you remember Russell? The guy's still chasing after me after all these years. Guess he's really loyal to your dad, eh? Or maybe he just doesn't want to lose to a brat, but he'll never catch me. I'll tell you the whole story later, but basically, I've been jumping from place to place. However, recently, I've settled down in a pureblood home near Hogwarts. He can't come anywhere near the school because of the wards, and neither can any of your father's 'friends.' I would say the same about your father, but if he truly wants something, I doubt the wards could stop him. You know you are free to visit me at any time, and the family I'm staying with invite you to come, though I would appreciate if you didn't let your dad know. He doesn't seem to like me, wonder why? Maybe I spit in his face one time too many. Oh well, I have no regrets._

_I can see from some of my spies and contacts that you're still working for your dad. I don't want to interfere, and like you told me more than once, it is your own family. However, I would like to kindly remind you that he doesn't own you. You're a strong, independent person who does not need someone to order you around. In fact, you're the person who is ordering people around most of the time. You're a tiny bit too confident with your wand as well, but if all else fails, remember those tricks I showed you with the gun. Just try not to get at the wrong end of one. Stay safe._

_Anxiously waiting your reply, kiddo. Please forgive the poor old man for not contacting you sooner. I hope to hear from you soon._

_Lots of love,_

_Nick_

_P.S. I told you my owl could find you, wherever you are. He's a smart one._

* * *

><p>Hermione read it again. And again. And again, until she memorized every single word of Nick's letter. After all that time, she still couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was still clutching the letter when Harry and Lavender came back into the kitchen to finish making dinner. She was still clutching it when she went into her room afterwards.<p>

It had been three years since he had left her; three years since she had been all alone in the world. However, it hadn't been his fault. Nick was brave. Nick had courage. He was daring enough to break away. Hermione, though, was weak. Whenever things got difficult, she ran back to where she started.

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night. She hadn't cried since she was a baby, and Nick threw her off a cliff to try to get over her fear of heights. Whether she was crying of joy, or from sadness, she didn't know. Her emotions were all jumbled up in a mess. She would not reply to the letter, at least not until she got her own feelings sorted out. Nick's letter stayed hidden under the pillows.

ஐ

Hermione was back on her dinner shift the next day. While Harry had taken over her shift in order to give her some time with her letter, he wasn't so lenient today. He had promptly thrown her out of the kitchen, using 'Your Prince Charming is worried about you,' as an excuse. As if Harry cared what Abraxas was feeling. Lavender had wisely stayed out of it, staying in her room the whole time squealing Tom this and Tom that.

Why would Abraxas be worried about her? Harry said that because she hadn't been present at dinner nor did she go to his room afterwards that he thought something in the kitchen grew fangs and ate her. Or maybe he thought she had gone to confront Riddle and had gotten killed. That seemed like a much more likely story, and Hermione had no problem imagining Riddle murdering someone. He was definitely a dark wizard.

_Then what does that make me?_

By the time she got into the dining room, everyone was already seated at the table. Her eyes absentmindedly strayed to Riddle, and she wasn't surprised to see him watching her carefully. His hair was neatly trimmed back, and he wore clean black robes. Quickly, she broke eye contact and scanned around the room again, this time finding Abraxas's. His eyes shone with relief, though his face remained indifferent. She gave him a small smile that was noticeable by no one else, and hurried to serve the family.

"So, Tom," Lady Malfoy purred. Hermione almost gagged; she had never heard the woman use that kind of tone of voice before. It seemed as if Riddle had everyone wrapped around his finger. The said subject was sitting with excellent posture, a polite expression arranged on his face. He tilted his head sideways, an interested look in his eyes. However, everything about it screamed 'fake' at Hermione. "Abraxas tells me that you two will go on a journey tomorrow?"

"Yes, ma'am," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm awfully sorry to be taking Abraxas away from you. I know how much you look forward to him being back at the Mansion during break." He and Abraxas traded a look which Hermione, thoroughly frustrated, couldn't decipher. Riddle eventually smirked and turned back to Lady Malfoy.

"Call me Irma," Lady Malfoy cooed gently. Riddle had simply inclined his head slightly, but didn't respond. "And it's no problem at all. I'm so happy that my little boy is making some friends." She smiled dazzlingly at Abraxas, who turned away, obviously embarrassed by the fuss his mother was making. Riddle snickered softly into his hand.

By that time, Hermione realized that she had to look rather suspicious, eavesdropping in plain sight. Hurriedly, she picked up the heavy bowl of soup, and started serving them before anyone had noticed. Also, she needed something to do with herself or she would start acting like an idiot.

She served Abraxas first, as he was closest to her. With her back blocking him from the rest of the table, he allowed his cold mask to slip slightly. He winked at her, and she had smiled back, before spooning a large spoonful of stew into his bowl. He even had the nerve to nudge her with his foot, and Hermione had to repress a giggle. She had the sudden urge to dump the whole pot on his head, but refrained from doing so, mentally scolding herself. She had managed to conceal her violent side for the most part, but once in a while she had strange urges to hurt someone. She had always been joking, but she had never really understood the dangers of tripping someone down the stairs or pouring soup on someone's head until now.

Walburga had been silent for far too long, so Hermione wasn't surprised when the witch cast a spell. _Once a coward, always a coward._ Hermione sighed. _She only dares to curse me when my back is turned._Hermione heard the spell before she felt it, so she quickly sidestepped. It seemed as if Walburga had tried the same trick again, the same stinging hex, though the curse didn't hit its mark this time. Hermione repressed a smirk, and timidly turned around to face her. However, she hadn't anticipated that Gabriel would join in the fun. The second she turned around, another red spell hit her square in the chest, and she stumbled backwards, but not before dumping hot liquid on Abraxas's head.

_Not again_, Hermione groaned to herself, but she was happy that it was Abraxas that was the victim, rather than Riddle.

Abraxas had his wand out in seconds and she felt herself being flung to the floor and she groaned softly as her head came in contact with the ground. She had been teaching Abraxas how to do nonverbal spells for a while, and it seemed as if he was improving lots. She tried to keep the prideful shine out of her face, but it didn't matter; all of them seemed to be too gleeful to notice her. She had managed to teach someone else! Only she and Abraxas would know, but it was an accomplishment for her.

Except of course, Riddle, who would not stop staring at her. His eyes were piercing through her, as if he could see all her lies and secrets. Deciding that no one else was looking, she met his gaze coldly. They held the eye contact until Riddle smirked and looked away.

Abraxas waved his wand again, clearing the mess she had created in his hair. Lady Malfoy let out a high pitched squeal. It sounded remarkably similar to Lavender's, though Hermione was sure that neither one of the two females would appreciate the comparison.

"Ooh, honey," she fussed happily. Abraxas looked confused. It didn't seem like Lady Malfoy acted motherly too often. "You learned nonverbal spells. My baby is growing up! I knew they were teaching you well in Hogwarts." She flashed him a dazzling grin, which he returned hesitantly, still slightly confused. Gabriel, who was sitting next to him, ruffled his hair adoringly. Abraxas scowled and slapped his hand away. Riddle seemed genuinely amused by the situation, though it was hard to tell with him.

Hermione stood up, trying to shake as much as possible without hindering her escape. She glanced down and noticed a patch of purple and black beginning to form on her hand. Her fingers ghosted over a bruise, and she winced slightly as she pressed down. Unfortunately, that movement drew everyone's eyes towards her.

"The Mudblood can still stand!" Walburga cackled gleefully. "Why don't you show her how it's done, Abraxas? A little Cruciatus should send her crawling to her room, shouldn't it?"

Abraxas turned towards his brother's girlfriend, a stony expression on his face. Hermione just wanted to leave, but the door was on the other side of the room, and she would get hit by at least five curses before she made it anywhere near the door. "Why would I waste my effort on a Mudblood?"

Strangely, Hermione felt slightly hurt after hearing him say that, even though he was just acting. There had been only two people in the world whose opinion she cared about; Grindelwald and Nick. But now, it seemed, she cared a little about Abraxas' as well.

Riddle was scanning Abraxas carefully. _Nothing gets past him, does it?_ Hermione thought to herself. He seemed to be a mind reader and an encyclopedia, all booked in one. Since he had arrived at the Manor, Hermione hadn't had enough time to really help Abraxas with his homework, but he seemed to have gotten it done faster. When she had asked, he had simply smirked and said Riddle was a better teacher. Hermione had fumed angrily to herself; how could he be smarter than _her_? It just wasn't fair. She had an inkling he didn't spend a minimum of ten hours in the library each day, so he clearly had not worked as her.

"Aww," Walburga said, trying to convince him. Hermione was sure that if Gabriel had not been between them, she would've draped herself all over Abraxas, boyfriend or not. "Where's the fun in that, Abraxas? Just a little show wouldn't hurt, would it?" Abraxas raised his eyebrows, but didn't respond. "Come on, youngsters these days are so lazy." She sighed dramatically. Hermione suppressed an eye roll; Walburga was only two years older than him. "You're almost as bad as Tom."

Abraxas's eyes quickly flashed to Riddle, whose face was absolutely livid. Abraxas kicked him under the table with his foot, though it was more reassuring than a warning, like he was trying to calm Riddle down. Riddle suddenly seemed to remember where he was. He blinked slowly, calming the dark magic that was swirling around him. By the time Walburga turned around to grin at him, his pleasant mask was already back on. Walburga was the only one who could outright insult someone, and still expect them to like her. Riddle smiled politely at her, but Hermione didn't miss the way he balled his hands into fists under the table.

_He beats me in acting as well_, Hermione thought furiously. _Or maybe he's just better at controlling his emotions than I am. I would've just punched the girl in the face._

"Come on, little brother," Apparently, Gabriel hadn't wanted to be left out of the fun. Either that, or he was willing to do anything his girlfriend wanted. Hermione almost snorted; Gabriel being whipped by his girlfriend? That was news to her. "Do as Wallie says. It's just a little entertainment. It wouldn't hurt anyone either, except for the Mudblood." Gabriel leaned in. "Unless, of course, you _care_ about the Mudblood."

Abraxas stiffened immediately, but Walburga laughed, clutching her boyfriend's arm. It had been meant as a joke, but what Gabriel didn't know was he had hit the truth nail on. Scanning around the table, she found with relief that no one had noticed Abraxas's actions, except for, of course, Riddle. However, Riddle was a lost cause. Maybe Riddle wasn't human.

"Come on, son," Lord Malfoy's voice boomed, speaking for the first time since dinner had started. His voice commanded absolute authority, though it too was laced with excitement. "Just cast the damn curse. Don't keep us waiting. You don't want Mister Riddle to think you're a coward, do you?"

Abraxas turned slowly towards Riddle, but the boy simply shrugged. He seemed indifferent about the whole thing, and he was definitely bored. The members of the Malfoy family, however, were all watching with fascination. Hermione let her disgust show through her eyes. They were just like her father, torturing people for entertainment.

Abraxas turned towards her, his back to his family. She could see the panicking look in his eyes. Though she couldn't send him any signs without everyone noticing, she looked at him defiantly, goading him. Her father always said that her smart tongue and her defiance was going to get her killed one day.

He didn't seem to get her unsaid message, but he seemed to come to the conclusion that he had no other choice. If he didn't curse her, someone else would, and they certainly would not be as lenient. Raising his wand shakily, an apologetic look in his eyes, he drew a deep breath and uttered the horrid word.

"Crucio."

Hermione fell to her knees again. While it didn't even fall on the scale of her father's or even Riddle's, it still hurt like hell. Millions of imaginary fingers, pinched and tore at her skin, and needles stabbed again and again. She regretted training Abraxas, but at the same time, she was also so proud that his magic was improving. A few days ago, his cruciatus curse would've held the same strength as an average stunner.

Abraxas released her after making her writher under his wand for a couple minutes. She didn't seem to be a good enough show, though; Walburga especially was scowling, furious with the lack of sound. Riddle, however, didn't seem surprised. He had merely raised an eyebrow at her, and she glared back. Abraxas himself looked worse than her. He was all shaken up. Hermione guessed it was the first time he used the cruciatus on anyone, and he certainly didn't seem like he enjoyed it.

Another thought flashed in to her mind. _But his wand was so steady_. So maybe Abraxas had cast the cruciatus before. Where? He didn't look like the type of person who spent their time cursing their house elves.

"Aw, come on," Walburga pleaded as Abraxas calmed himself and went back to eating as if nothing happened. "At least make her beg, will you? That was no fun at all." She pouted; biting her lower lip in what she thought was a look that made her attractive. It didn't, and Hermione caught Riddle's not-so-secretive eye roll. At least the two agreed on something. Gabriel, however, seemed to think differently. He rubbed her arm soothingly, before his hand disappeared under the table, a mischievous grin on his face. The witch leaned into his arm, purring softly.

Hermione was thoroughly disgusted.

"No." Hermione was surprised at how firm Abraxas's voice was. His back was turned towards her, so she couldn't see his expression. "You do not own me, Walburga. You have no right to tell me what to do."

Hermione glanced quickly at his parents, but if they suspected anything, they certainly didn't show it. They watched the conversation volley back and forth with excitement.

Walburga looked hurt. "But Abraaaxxaaas," she whined.

"No." This time, however, it wasn't Abraxas who had spoken. Six pairs of eyes, including Hermione's shocked ones, flew towards Riddle, who was still sitting there calmly, munching on his vegetables. "I don't want her bleeding to death on the floor, and you're making a racket. It's hurting my head." He looked at Hermione, who had managed to stand up mostly unnoticed. His eyes were empty as always. "You are dismissed."

Hermione bowed, eyeing Riddle suspiciously. He merely smirked and went back to his food. Ignoring the glares of the Malfoy family, she scurried away. Was it pity for Abraxas? It seemed more plausible than him having the sudden desire to _protect_ her.

On her way out, she could hear Walburga squawking away, begging Riddle earnestly. And Riddle, who had spent all dinner looking at her, didn't even turn towards her direction as she left.

ஐ

"Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive." Hermione said, but Abraxas was shaking pretty badly. All the fear and anger he had bottled up during dinner had been released. He had smashed up his cabinet this time and had fell on the bed, trembling. Hermione had been greeted by the sight when she first arrived in his room, after she finished cleaning the fourth floor.

"Of course there's something to forgive." Abraxas closed his eyes while Hermione stroked his hair quietly. It was slightly awkward for Hermione, having never been in such a moment with a boy before, but it seemed to calm him down. Nick had been against such sentimentals, and if she had gone anywhere near her father's hair, he would've blasted her to America. "There's everything to forgive. I cursed you." He croaked. "I hurt you."

"No," she felt silly, like a mother talking to her son. "I'm so proud of you, Abraxas. That was a really good cruciatus curse."

Abraxas snorted. "Nice try, but no. You didn't even scream. Isn't that the point? To inflict torture on a person so they want to die?"

"Yes, that's the general idea."

"You still didn't scream."

"Do I have to scream?" Hermione sighed. "I can die without screaming, can't I? And besides, not even Riddle could make me scream." She smirked at the memory. It was probably one of the only times she could best the wizard, so she would cherish the moment forever. "I'm a lot tougher than that."

"I've been through Tom's cruciatus before," Abraxas shuddered. "It's terrible. It's like-a thousand bees stabbing you with their stingers while swords and needles stab your insides out."

"Yep, that pretty much sums it up."

"You still didn't scream."

"No, I didn't. I'm not a vocal person."

"Oh really." Abraxas deadpanned, but Hermione could see slight signs of a grin starting to grace his face. She hadn't seen why he was so upset with it; she had dealt with worse. And she was the victim here, not him. She had seemed like the innocent one in this weird relationship, but it appeared as if it was the opposite.

"Have you ever cast the curse before?"

"The cruciatus?" Abraxas replied. "Of course I have. I've lost count of how many times I have, to be honest, so I don't have a number, if that's what you're looking for." He shrugged. "I told you there was a dark side to me."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Have you? Do you always tremble so much?" There was a sharp tone in her voice that accidently appeared, and if Hermione wasn't so prideful, she would've apologized when the hurt look arose on Abraxas' face.

Abraxas sighed. "The cruciatus curse only works at its best when you really want to inflict damage on a person. I've never cast it on a person I even remotely cared about."

They sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence. The clock showed it to be five minutes past one, and though the time was quite late, the pair would hear an occasional squeal from Walburga in Gabriel's room. Hermione had once brought up the topic of the two of them eventually marrying each other, but Abraxas had laughed and said,

"It's never going to last. While Walburga has lasted longer than his other conquests, he'll drop her soon. They are so many of them I can't even count them on two hands." He had snorted. "My older brother is such a good example. However, he set the bar so high. I don't think I'll be able to live up to expectations."

Hermione smiled and looked down at the boy next to her. His eyes were closed, and his chest heaved up and down slowly, but Hermione knew he was awake. "Abraxas," she poked him gently. "How many people have you dated?"

Abraxas opened one eye and yawned lazily. He looked curious at Hermione's sudden interest but didn't ask. "Me?"

Hermione scowled. "No, the person behind you." Abraxas looked as if he was tempted to turn around, but decided against it.

"Zero," he added, seeing Hermione's amazed face. "Before you get any ideas, _no_, it isn't because no one's asked. Because I'll have you know that there have been plenty of offers. I am a rather handsome specimen, after all." He smirked as Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just don't find it appropriate. I'm failing school enough as it is. I don't need extra responsibility. And, I haven't had a friend that I know well enough yet." He shrugged. "I'm not Gabriel. I don't just look for a quick shag. What about you, then?" Abraxas looked up at her curiously, his pale blue eyes unblinking.

"What about me?"

"You and the dating prospect. Any lucky guys yet?" He grinned at her, winking devilishly.

Hermione thought of her father, and what he would do if she ever let herself get that attached to someone right in front of him. "No," she said shortly, her voice sour.

Abraxas shrugged, but wisely dropped the topic. Hermione wouldn't have elaborated, even if he wanted her to. He changed the subject and said seriously, "You should come to Hogwarts."

Hermione simply sighed. "I'm a slave, Abraxas. Slaves do not go to school, nor do they receive proper education." And if were that easy, Grindelwald would've sent her to Hogwarts years ago rather than put up with her constant pleas.

"Didn't stop you, did it?" Abraxas replied cheekily.

Hermione scowled and crossed her arms. As appealing as it was, with Nick and the library there waiting for her, she couldn't do it. Her father would never allow it.

She had lived without Hogwarts for so many years, she didn't have to stop now. And it wasn't like she didn't have books she could access. The Malfoy Manor, combined with the books she had back home, was enough to keep her busy for a lifetime.

"Tell me about Hogwarts," she said softly. Though she had no chance of going, she was still curious. She had gotten a lot of clues out of Hogwarts, A History, but there was only so much she could find out from words alone. And if there was something the book lacked, it was pictures.

Abraxas sighed; Hermione must've had that dreamy look in her eyes again, the one that only appeared when she was thinking about the school. "Hogwarts. It's truly a beautiful place. The Great Hall is like its name suggests: it's pretty great. Capital G. There are four tables for each of the houses, but I'm assuming you know all of this already?" Hermione nodded. Abraxas sighed. "Ever the bookworm."

Hermione grew irritated when he didn't continue. "Why did you stop?" she demanded. "I knew all of that already. Tell me something I don't know."

Abraxas tsked. "Patience, young grasshopper." He thought for a while, and then opened his mouth, only to close it, a devilish grin crawling up his face. He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his hand. "Hm, I don't think I will," he smirked at her. "You'll just have to go to Hogwarts yourself and find out."

Hermione glared at him and he grinned back easily. It didn't seem like he was going to tell her anything anytime soon. Huffing in frustration, she started to tickle him. "Give up," she cackled gleefully as he rolled around helplessly, trying to free himself from her grasp. She knew he wasn't going to be able to get up; she had been trained to be in this position ever since she was born."Tell me everything about Hogwarts and I will stop my fingers,"

"I plead the fifth," he said, trying to sound serious, but failing as he rolled around. Tears were starting to spring in his eyes. Hermione felt rather foolish, and was about to stop when he had the nerve to smirk at her. All thoughts of silliness flew out of her head, and she attacked him more relentlessly than ever.

"You have five seconds," Hermione said, grinning. She could count on one hand the number of times she had failed to maintain a poker face, and this was definitely one of them. "Starting now. One. Two."

"Five seconds or else what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Hermione replied. "You'll just have to wait and find out. Three. Four. Fiv-"

The door flew open. Hermione was sure she placed a locking charm on the door. It wasn't that strong, but the intruder would have to make some noise if they tried to get in. Were she and Abraxas really that loud? Hermione was all too aware of how her hands were on Abraxas's chest, the two of them tangled in a heap on a bed. Hermione was sure that whatever they looked like, it was far from innocent.

"This certainly is interesting."

Hermione slowly turned herself around, untangling herself from Abraxas and looked straight into the eye of Tom Riddle.

**_To Be Continued…_**

P.S. Don't say bye to Nick yet. He'll be showing up real soon.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**To clear things up, no, this is not going to be a love triangle between Abraxas x Hermione x Tom. Just give them some time, though reviews might speed the process along. ;)

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

Thanks to my betas, AllShadesofGrey and Annevader.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Master Riddle." Hermione said shyly, looking at the ground. Abraxas had sat up, cleared his throat, and was now straightening his robes. His hair was the messiest that Hermione had ever seen, and everything pointed to the duo doing things that were far from innocent. Judging from the look on Riddle's face, he was jumping to conclusions. "I-I was just talking to Master Malfoy over here…" she trailed off as Riddle raised his eyebrows.<p>

He clearly didn't buy it her innocent act, but she didn't expect him to. He wasn't the one who had a pea-sized brain like Gabriel did. Riddle stepped quietly into the room and let the door swing shut behind him. They were trapped in his cage. Not good.

"Master Malfoy?" Riddle snickered. "You didn't seem to have a problem calling him Abraxas a few minutes ago."

Abraxas seemed to be at a loss for words as well, as he stared determinedly at a spot right above his desk. Riddle crossed the room in large strides and sank into Abraxas's armchair. While he hadn't received permission, Hermione thought that both of them weren't in the position to lecture him. Not that that would've stopped her, except she was interested in hearing what Riddle had to say. So she settled with glaring at him instead.

"Since both of you don't feel like talking," Riddle said smoothly. "Why don't I start? Let me summarize this for you. You are," he pointed at Abraxas. "A pureblood wizard. And you are," he pointed at Hermione. "A mudblood slave. Have you got that so far?"

Abraxas had suddenly found his shoes very interesting. '_Way to bail on me_,' Hermione thought irritably. Feeling a heavy lump in her throat, Hermione didn't dare to speak, and instead just nodded coldly, maintaining eye contact with him so he would know she wasn't scared of him. It was all useless, though; Riddle was pondering over something and didn't notice her. Finally, he said, "How long has this been going on?"

"A week," Abraxas responded softly. "Since about the second day that she got here." A lie here might've helped, but Hermione remembered that Riddle had a thing for deciphering lies. He was an exceptional wizard, but a conceited prick nevertheless.

Riddle's lips curled up into a sinister smirk as he crossed his legs leisurely, leaning back in his chair. He looked perfectly comfortable as she and Abraxas squirmed around. "So," he drawled slowly. "You two have been having a secret romance for an entire week, and no one noticed anything, yet I come here for two days and already have everything figured out?" He seemed awfully pleased with himself.

Hermione shook her head. "N-no, you misunderstand, Master Riddle. Mas-Abraxas and I are not having a secret romance." She entertained that idea in her head. She kept her mouth shut in case she spouted out something offensive. She used to be able to insult Nick to her heart's content, but it was clear that that kind of behavior was not normal here.

"As much as it pleases me, I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me Master Riddle," Riddle said. "Why don't you just call me Tom, _Hermione_?" He smiled charmingly at her.

"Uh, I can't," Hermione stammered. "I have to call you-"

"I don't see you calling Abraxas Master Malfoy when you two are…conversing." Riddle replied sharply. Abraxas flinched at the tone of his voice. Hermione glared at him, though once again, a perfectly good glare was wasted as he didn't seem to notice. "And you might as well drop your act. It's obvious that I can see right through it, and you're just wasting your energy and everyone's time trying to play a pitiless slave."

"Have it your way," Hermione said in a voice that rivaled Riddle's. He barely acknowledged it, though Abraxas glanced at her, surprised. "I'll stop my stuttering then. What would you like to talk about, _Tom_?"

Riddle smirked. "How about we talk about you? Who are you, and where did you come from?"

_That's easy_. She spent so longer memorizing her cover story that she could recite it in her sleep. "My name is Hermione Granger. I come from France. My parents died in a car crash when I was four, so I've been jumping around from place to place, helping out." She cast her eyes downwards, in what she hoped Riddle would perceive as the truth and pity her.

No such luck.

"That's a very interesting story," Riddle said, fiddling with his ring again. There was a peculiar black stone resting on the top of it, though it looked dull for some reason. "Why don't you tell me the truth?"

Abraxas's eyes widened a little, but Hermione just narrowed her eyes at Riddle. "I am not lying." She hissed at him. He said nothing, but raised his eyebrows, amused. She couldn't understand how he could enjoy this. "How do _you_ know that that's not the truth? Did you look in to my background?" For some reason, the thought that Riddle spent time on her pleased her.

"You think I spent my time researching your background?" Riddle replied smoothly. "Rest assured, I don't waste my time on mudbloods." He leaned in, narrowing his eyes dangerously. "But that's not what you are, is it?"

Hermione stiffened, her face paling. Even if he was just guessing, it was an awfully good one. Hermione had done all she could to cover up her tracks, so how could he have known so easily? He was right; he had only been there for two days, yet he seemed to have uncovered her already.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, no doubt to spew nasty insults to refute his claim, when she remembered that she and Riddle weren't in the room alone, and Abraxas was also there. His face had gone paler than hers, and he was staring at her incredulously. "You're not muggleborn?"

Hermione had opened her mouth and then shut it. If he believed Riddle so easily, there was no way she could convince him, not with Riddle in the room. She glanced at Riddle to see how he would handle it, but was shocked to see him standing up. "I have some things I need to finish up," he said, and then smirked. "I'll let you explain by yourself. Keep your hands to yourself."

_Ah, so Riddle is a wimp himself_, Hermione thought angrily.

Once Riddle was out of the room, Abraxas whirled to Hermione. "What is this?" he hissed at her. "I thought we were friends."

Hermione looked at him frostily. She was not trying to scare him, but his faith in her offended her. "Yes, that's what I thought too," she responded coldly.

"If we're _friends_," Abraxas glared at her, "why the hell are you lying to me?"

"How come you believe him and not me? Why is he suddenly right and I'm completely wrong?" Hermione snapped at him, her nasty temper resurfacing again. She made sure to keep her wand safely tucked in her pocket so she couldn't take it out out of habit.

"I don't know, maybe because everything is pointing to you being wrong," Abraxas said quietly. "I don't know what your background is, where you learn everything. Hell, everything that I do know about you, I don't know if it's true or not. How do you want me to trust you?"

Hermione was determinedly pissed now. "Yeah, but I expected your faith in me to be more than that," she snapped back. "You told me once that you had your own lies, remember? Why can you have your own lies and I can't?" _And if I tell you my lies_, Hermione added furiously in her brain, _I'll get sentenced to a life in Azkaban._

"At least I admitted them," Abraxas glowered at her. "At least I let you know that I'm a wacked up person, and you're the one that decided to trust me. But with you, it's the opposite! I thought you were completely normal, and you spring this crap on me. And you don't even tell me about this. I have to hear it from _Tom_ of all people. So why don't you go and be buddy-buddy with him?"

Hermione clenched her jaw. "You think I'm normal, Abraxas? If that's the case, then you don't know me at all. And, you think I'm consulting Riddle over you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time that it has happened."

"I can't believe you," Hermione fumed angrily, getting up and putting as much space between her and Abraxas as possible. She was too mad to care that it was perfectly right for Abraxas to become suspicious. _She_ would've become suspicious if she was in his place. "I am not everyone else, Abraxas. Stop comparing me to other people." Her eyes flashed dangerously, and for a second, Abraxas looked startled. Then, his mask fell back in place.

"You're right; you're not everyone else. You're worse." His steely gaze cut through her coldly, his words cutting in to her. "Get out."

Hermione wasted no time, slamming the door behind her. It was late by now, but she knew that some people were still awake. However, she didn't care who caught her. She stomped down the hallway, making sure to smash everything in her sight.

ஐ

Riddle smirked into the darkness. His plan had worked better than he would've ever imagined. He had hazarded a guess that the girl was not a mudblood; a mudblood could not be capable for performing the spells he had seen her perform with Abraxas. He had merely brought up the subject, and the girl had stiffened immediately. Perfect. Tom Riddle was never wrong. Now, he would just have to expose her other secrets.

He had to admit she had done a good job at covering up her tracks. He had spent the last few days researching irritably, but coming across dead ends. However, the girl would spill some time. While she had lived through his cruciatus curse without too much pain, something he was very angry about, could she live through ten? What about twenty? He could break her easily. He also had his legilimens to turn to. However, his first plan, which was the easiest to do, was to corner her. She was a girl, and he was a handsome boy. He would be surprised if she didn't start babbling to him all her dirtiest, darkest secrets.

If his deduction was correct, Abraxas would have yelled at her now and threw her out. Riddle knew him well enough to know that the boy hated being lied to, ever since that incident during their second year. All according to plan. He had needed to test her out before he asked her the important question. If she broke now, he was going to stop all investigations on her. He wasn't going to take some wussy girl on a trip with him. However, he was more curious about her than he had been about anyone else for years. It took more than a normal girl, even more so a _slave_ at that, to break down Abraxas's walls.

"Tom," the girl next to him breathed. He had completely forgotten about her, and he quickly arranged a perfect smile. Not that it mattered; she couldn't see him much in the darkness anyways. He leaned closer to her, his fingers dancing up and down her arms, and she whimpered softly with excitement.

_Pathetic._

"Hey," he said, feigning breathlessness as well. They were so close their noses were almost touching. The sigh she gave told him his acting was still as convincing as always. "We finally have some time together." His hand found hers and he squeezed it gently. He smirked when her breath caught. "I've been watching you."

"Have you, Tom?" she sounded flattered. Little did she know that he hadn't cast a single glance towards her direction in public. He had been too busy examining the bushy haired witch. "And I'm glad we can finally be together. I swear Walburga wouldn't stop looking at me," she giggled, and leaned in for a kiss. Through her excitement, she didn't realize that Riddle barely responded.

Riddle allowed the girl to pleasure herself with his lips for a while, and then pulled away. "Should you be talking about your Mistress like that?" he asked, rather amused. Not that he disagreed with her; Walburga was insane and was rather annoying. However, she knew her Dark Arts well, and could be useful to him in the future.

The girl seemed to make a face. "What Walburga doesn't won't hurt her." She grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him towards her again. Riddle fought the urge to get her hands off of his robes. He had just gotten them cleaned, and didn't need some pitiless slave touching them and soiling them.

"Wait," he stopped her before their lips could touch again. He could smell her breath on his nose, and fought the urge to pull away. He needed her cooperation on this. Even though she was a slave, he had to be careful. If he had simply attacked her and taken the item by force, word would reach Dumbledore in less than a day. He grimaced at the thought of how much power the old codger had over him. "Remember the item we were talking about? The item that you said you got?"

"Oh." The girl seemed stunned for a moment, and Riddle feared that he might've just wasted his time on nothing. However, the girl's face lighted up and she said, "Yes, yes. Of course. Would you like it now, Tom?"

"Yes, please." He tried to put on his best innocent face, while inside, he was smirking triumphantly. Victory. "If it wouldn't trouble you too much."

"Oh, no, it's my pleasure." She giggled again, and Riddle tried not to retch at the horrid sound. She swung over to the other side of her bed, and bent down near her luggage. Finally, he could get out of here. He was beginning to get sick of her strong perfume and the way her hair kept brushing against his eyes. Never had he ever met a girl as clumsy as her. For a girl who was happy on jumping on whichever wizard came by, he would've expected that she had more experience.

"Here you go, Tom," the girl turned around cheerfully, holding out a shiny object. Greedily, he took it into his hands, turning it over and examining it. It seemed to be the legitimate thing. His lips curled into a devious smirk, though before he could let his dark magic wrap around it possessively, he realized the girl was watching him. She was still waiting expectantly. She had served her purpose, and she was nothing but a nuisance now.

He had been surprised when she came up to him one night and told him she had the diadem. He hadn't believed her at first, telling himself that there was no way a slave could have something he had been looking for his whole life. However, as he held it in his hands, he could see that it was the real thing. There seemed to be something off about it, though he'd have to investigate it later.

"Thank you so much," he said, with a bit of triumph shining in his voice. "M-may I borrow it for a while? If it wouldn't be too much?" He batted his eyelashes a few extra times for the effect.

"Of course Tom." The girl gushed happily. "I have no use for it anyways, and I would love for you to have it. You can keep it, actually. I'm sure that you'll make good use of it." She giggled.

_Foolish girl. Of course I will. What else would I want it for?_

Riddle decided to indulge her one more time before he left. He _did_ have an act to keep up, and it wouldn't do for her to get angry and start blabbing about him. He did not need any story to be conjured about him.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't have enough money for lodging, and he was not staying at Hogwarts for the summer. As if a school year of the stupid old codger wasn't enough. With even less people during summer break, Dumbledore was sure to keep an even closer eye on him. He couldn't accomplish anything at Hogwarts without him knowing about it. He would have to come to the Malfoy Manor again, and it wouldn't do to get on anyone's bad side. He didn't want any spiders or anything of that sort to be on his bed the next time he visited the Manor.

He pulled her towards her again, and she was happy to oblige. His lips sought hers, and he was irritated to find her arms wrapping around his body. It would be harder for him to get away like that. Just as he was starting to make his move, he was saved as the door flung open and the two of them broke apart.

The Granger girl was leaning on the door frame, her hands crossed and her face blank. He sat up and straightened himself out, but not before smirking at her. She rolled her eyes before looking at the girl he had been snogging just a few moments ago. Her lips were parted, her eyes full of lust, and her cheeks tinged with red.

_Disgusting._

"Oh, sorry." Granger said, not sounding particularly apologetic. Her cold eyes flicked between the two of them. "You alright there, Lav?"

"Yes, yes." Lavender glared at her. "Now if you will just leave, Hermione, I would appreciate it. Oh, and also, close the door."

"Actually," Riddle said, standing up smoothly. Lavender pouted, and Hermione simply raised her eyebrows at him. "I have something I need to talk about with Granger here." He ignored Lavender's protesting, and cocked his head towards Granger. "Right, Granger?"

She gave him a look like she was trying to figure him out. He just gave her a sideways smirk, giving nothing else away. She glanced at Lavender, who was glaring wholeheartedly at her. She sighed. "Fine." she said nonchalantly. "I'll see you later, Lav." She mock waved.

The girl was fuming angrily, so before she could blow up and cause a racket, he bent down and pecked her on the cheek. He could see out of the corner of his eyes Granger rolling her eyes at his antics, and he repressed a smirk. Lavender's eyes wandered to his lips, and then went downwards, before coming back to his eyes. "I'll see you later, _Lav_," he said, and winked. He watched, thoroughly amused, as the girl melted into a puddle.

Granger muttered something that sounded strangely like 'insufferable showoff.' She then cleared her throat, but Riddle didn't miss her smirk. "You coming, Riddle?"

"Yes." He tore his eyes away from Lavender, who had fallen back against her bed happily. "Come on, Granger. Let's get things sorted out."

"Yes," she looked him in the eyes as he exited Lavender's room. "We have a lot of sorting out to do."

ஐ

The two of them quickly walked out of the kitchen and into the hallways. Riddle leaned casually against the wall, while Hermione lingered near the stairs. If he tried anything fishy on her, she'd at least have an escape route to turn to. She also didn't want to talk to him in the hallways, as one of the Malfoys could come and catch them, but she didn't want to be in a room alone with Riddle either.

"So, Riddle," Hermione mimicked his posture, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze head on. "You wanted to talk to me about something? Or maybe," she smiled at him innocently. "You just wanted an excuse to ditch Lavender, didn't you?"

Riddle raised his eyebrows and displayed a look of mock hurt. "Now, why would I do that?" He asked earnestly. "We both know Lavender is a well likeable figure." He almost snorted, but refrained himself. "Why would I not enjoy her company?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because, you were only snogging her to get what you wanted. While Lavender may not see it, it's quite obvious."

"Oh, is it really?" Riddle smirked. "I seem to be an open book to you. Then, Granger, what exactly do I want from Lavender?"

"An open book," Hermione scoffed. "You are far from that, Riddle. And I'm guessing you took some kind of jewelry." Hermione shrugged. "It looks pretty shiny, and I can't think of anything else Lavender would own. I've seen most of her belongings, and almost all of them have to do with jewelry or make up of some kind."

"It looks shiny?" Riddle raised an eyebrow and looked down. The end of the item was peeking of his robes. He frowned slightly; he had been sure he had concealed it properly. For some reason he couldn't explain, he pulled out the item and showed it to Granger. "It's a tiara,"

"I can see that," Hermione smirked. "So, are you going to start playing dress up with Lavender soon? Or maybe you want to be a princess?"

"No," Riddle snapped at her, suddenly defensive. "This tiara has a lot more value than a stupid dress up item." He stashed it back in his robes and glared at her.

"Alright, alright." Hermione held her hands up, but not before she rolled her eyes and muttered 'over-reacting prick' under her breath. "No need to defend your tiara so avidly. Your business is your own."

"Speaking of business," Riddle countered, immediately changing the subject into one where he was not under pressure. "How is your business going?" He smirked as Hermione scowled at him. "How did the lover's spat go?"

"For the last time, Abraxas and I are not dating, nor will we ever go out." She glared at him.

Riddle responded in a voice that was sickening sweet. "But I was right, wasn't I?" He watched in satisfaction as Hermione stiffened. "Are you a pureblood or a half blood?" He leaned in closer. "Who are your parents? Why are you impersonating as a mudblood witch?" He was so close to her now that she could feel his cold breath on her skin. "Who are you really?"

"Like I would tell you," Hermione shoved him off of her, his close proximity making her uncomfortable. He sighed. "Nice try, Riddle."

"You didn't deny that you weren't a mudblood, though. Not before, in Abraxas's room, and not now." He smirked when Hermione realized that he was, in fact, correct.

Hermione took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the wall. "Well, if that's all you wanted from me, I'm going to sleep." She had known, before she said anything, that he wouldn't let her go _that_ easily. He wouldn't have made such a huge effort to corner her if that was the case.

"Actually, Granger, there _is_ something I want from you. Something you have been very reluctant to give me." He said smoothly. "I want answers."

"Well, Riddle," Hermione cocked her head to the side. She should _not_ be engaging him in a conversation. She should just walk away. He was dangerous, and he already knew more than he should. However, Hermione found her mouth moving on its own accord. "Looks like you're not getting them."

"No?" Riddle quirked an eyebrow and leaned in, effectively trapping her against the wall. This time, Hermione found that she couldn't find the strength to lift her arms and push him away. His breath landed on the neck, and goose bumps formed along her arms. She quickly hid them behind her body, but judging at the smirk that had appeared on his face, he had seen them. She glanced down at her arms, thoroughly disgusted. "You sure about that, Granger?"

"What are you doing, Riddle?" She regarded him coolly. Hermione was proud that her voice didn't shake, even though she was sure her heart was pounding so loud that even Riddle could hear it. "You know I'm not affected by whatever you're doing."

"I don't believe you," Riddle leaned down so their noses were almost touching. It was the sheer thought that those same lips had touched Lavender's just moments ago that made her find the strength to push against his chest. He let out a chuckle at her sigh of frustration when he didn't budge. She contemplating whether or not to kick him in the groin, but decided to save that strategy for later.

He pressed his mouth against her ear. "You're an interesting creature, Granger." he purred into her ear. "I will have fun digging out all your secrets and breaking you."

With that, the spell was broken.

"You'll never win, Riddle," Hermione shot back, giving up at attempting to push him off of her. He was strong, and while she was most certain she could push him off of her if she really wanted to, she didn't want to make a racket in the middle of the hallway. She, however, turned her face so he got a face full of her bushy hair. Riddle retracted himself and grimaced, and Hermione smirked back. "Why don't you just give up?"

His lips curled up slightly, and leaned in again, and she felt rather than saw him smile against her ear. "Now, where is the fun in that?" She did her best to make sure her body was as responsive as a rock. "You're an exceptional witch, Miss Granger, for being able to put up your act for this long. Let's see how long you'll last."

"Riddle," she snarled at him. While the act had been amusing at first, it was starting to get really annoying. Not to mention, she did not enjoy getting pinned to a wall. "You should—"

"Hey, Hermione!" Abraxas came bustling into the hallway. "I should apologize for what I did earlier. It was immoral, and you were right. You are entitled to have your own secrets, and…" he trailed off, finally noticing the compromising position that they were in. His eyebrows shot up so high, they disappeared under his blonde hair. His face crinkled in confusion, but, to Hermione's relief, he didn't look angry.

"Hi, Abraxas." Hermione said as Riddle straightened himself up and brushed off his robes. "Riddle here was just leaving."

"On the contrary," Riddle replied smoothly. "I think I'll stay. I wouldn't want to miss your heartfelt apology for the world, Abraxas." He smirked, and Hermione glared at him.

Abraxas stared at the two of them, trying to figure out what was going on. "Erm, okay." He still looked very confused, though of what, Hermione didn't know. "Like I was saying before, you know," he cleared his throat. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I let my emotions get ahead of me. I hope you can forgive me." He bowed his head, though he never took his eyes off of Hermione. I was thinking about it after you left," Abraxas admitted easily. "I replayed the conversation in my mind a couple of times, and realized how stupid I sounded. I'm really sorry. I let some stupid thing interfere with our friendship."

Riddle, who was trying not to roll his eyes the whole time, said smoothly, "Oh, so I'm just a stupid thing, am I?"

Abraxas paled considerably, seemingly having forgotten that Riddle was also there. Hermione just rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, you are, Riddle."

Riddle glared at her.

"But anyways," Hermione turned back to Abraxas and beamed. The action, though foreign, felt nice. "I forgive you."

Hermione smiled at him, and he smiled back, relieved that she had forgiven him relatively quickly, and the two of them just stood there, smiling at each other, until Riddle cleared his throat irritably. "If you two are done here," he said offhandedly, "I would like to move on with my life."

"No one asked you to stay," Hermione replied cheekily. Abraxas's apology had done wonders to her mood, though she figured that Riddle must've made it drop pretty low for her to feel so much better at a simple apology. "You wanted to stay, so now you have to put up with our cheesiness."

Abraxas frowned. "We're not cheesy."

Hermione reached over and messed up his hair, just because she could. Abraxas scowled at her, but she could see amusement glinting in his eyes. "Sure we aren't." she cast a sideways glance at Riddle, who had edged farther and farther away from them. "Leaving already, Riddle?"

"Yes, the two of you are positively disgusting," he made a face, and headed down the hall to his room. Hermione watched, amused, as his back disappear around the corner, only to have it reappear moments later.

"Granger?" He called out, locking his eyes with hers.

"Yes, Riddle?"

"I want you to come with us to Little Hangleton tomorrow."

ஐ

"And what did you say?"

"I said yes, of course," Hermione muttered, leaning back against her chair. She had approximately half an hour to pack everything she needed for the trip. "What else would I say, Harry? He's a wizard. I need to listen to him." _She nearly snorted, but refrained from doing so. The only reason she accepted was because she wanted to get out of this house._

Why would Riddle want her to go with him? She would only be an extra weight that he'd have to carry around. Riddle probably had something planned, and Hermione had no idea what it was. His element of surprise was his biggest weapon, and Hermione realized, frustrated, that there was nothing she could do about it.

The two of them were in Hermione's room, Harry watching as Hermione packed. She had retrieved her never ending bag, or the bottomless pit, as she liked to call it, and was now stuffing everything she knew in it. She couldn't take _everything_, of course, but she was going to take as much as she could. Books, paper, her research. And of course, Nick's letter.

Harry sighed. "I know that, of course. It's just—" he trailed off, staring at the clock above Hermione's head. "Riddle's dangerous, Hermione. I don't like him."

"Don't worry, I don't like him either," she reassured him. _That_ was the understatement of the year. She _despised_ him for wanting to know more than he should, even though that was exactly what she would've done. "He knows more than he should and he always sticks his nose where he belongs."

His frown only intensified. "Look, Hermione. I know you have your secrets, and I have mine. I respect that, and you respect it as well. However, Riddle…I see the way he looks at you. You're a mystery to him, Hermione. And he'll stop at nothing to find out your secrets. "

"I know," Hermione stuffed her clothes in her never ending bag. She wasn't sure how long they would be staying in Little Hangleton, but she had to be prepared. "He straight out told me, Harry."

Harry's jaw dropped. "He _told_ you?" he asked incredulously. "Why are you still going with him then?"

"Are you deaf?" she asked, irritated that she couldn't find her deck of cards she had stashed under her bed. She was sure they had been there when she had last looked. "I just told you why I had to go."

"Go tell your Prince Charming to call it off," Harry said simply. "You belong to the Malfoy family, not the Riddle family. If any of the Malfoys don't want you to go, Riddle can't make you."

"You're wrong about that." Hermione's hand skimmed across the deck, and she retrieved it happily. "Riddle has absolute authority over here. And besides, I'm not the only one with the secrets." Hermione smirked to herself, a look of menace appearing on her face. "I'll have fun finding out _his_ as well."

"You're kind of scary sometimes," Harry said, causing Hermione to grin. Harry sighed again. "Just be careful, alright? I don't want you getting hurt or anything…" he trailed off, staring at Hermione, who was on all fours, looking under her cabinet. "What are you looking for?"

Hermione made a muffled sound that sounded strangely like 'bouncy ball.'

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to know what other types of things you're packing." Hermione stifled a laugh. "Don't get too carried away, though," Harry continued quietly, searching through the box of belongings she had next to her bed. "Riddle's suspicious enough as it is. Don't give him more of a reason to doubt that there's more to you."

"Yes, Harry, I know," she caught the pink ball he threw at her and stashed it away. That seemed to be all her belongings. "I'll be careful. You don't need to worry about me. I'm a big girl."

"Why would Harry worry about you?"

Hermione stifled a sigh and turned around, Lavender standing near the door, looking at the scene in front of her curiously. Hermione had planned to just leave a note for the girl and not face her before she left, but that plan just flew out the window. Every time she looked at her, she saw the girl with her lips plastered to Riddle's. It thoroughly disgusted her when people showed public displays of affection, though it _had_ been her who had barged in without knocking.

"Uh, hey, Lav," Hermione said. Without her hand there to support the bag, it tumbled out of her lap and onto the floor with a thud. Lavender's gaze shifted to it, and Hermione could almost see the gears turning in her head. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Lavender said slowly, and then scanned around the room. Hermione had emptied out almost all the contents, so it was pretty much completely empty. "The better question would be what's up with you."

"Hermione just has a death wish and she's going on a trip with Riddle and Prince Charming," Harry said gruffly. "No big deal."

_Crap._ She had forgotten to tell Harry about the position she had found Lavender and Riddle in earlier, and by looking at Lavender's face, the girl was far from happy. She gave Hermione a glare that could've made Riddle himself cringe and actually growled.

"What the _hell_?" Lavender asked her angrily, advancing on her. Hermione stared back at her, unflinching. "First, you go and disrupt my private moment with Tom, and now you have the nerve to run away with him? Who do you think you are?"

Harry shot her a surprised look, but Hermione couldn't deal with him right now. "I am not running away with him. Calm down. And for your information, Riddle was the person who asked me." She snapped. "So why don't you go yell at him instead of me?"

"You're lying," Lavender shook her head. "Why would Tom ask _you_? You probably threw yourself at him, didn't you? You annoyed him so much that he had to ask you, and yet now you're blaming it on him? You must be more desperate than I thought."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. "And why would you think that? Do I look like the type of girl who throws herself at random wizards?"

"Yes," Lavender told her matter-of-factly. Hermione scowled. This was like her fight with Abraxas all over again. She really was not in the mood. "Why else would Tom take you and not me? I'm the person he likes, not you. You don't even like him, Hermione, so why don't you just give up and give the spot to me?"

"Hold on," Hermione held her hands up, trying not to lash out at the girl for being so stupid. "According to your logic, I don't like him, but I'm still willing to throw myself at him? Is that what you're saying?"

"Alright, you two," Harry cut in, still clueless. "Break it up." He was met by two furious glares, and he shrunk back, wisely deciding not to say anything more.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Lavender hissed at her. "I don't know what you're doing, but stop it right now. It's not your place to engage in romantic activities with a wizard."

_Romantic activities? With Riddle? Is he even capable of performing such acts?_"Oh, and you are?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, and Lavender's face flushed red with anger. "Have you forgotten, Lavender? You and I are the same. We're both slaves. Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?"

"I'm different!" Lavender screeched. "I'm unique! Tom chose me! He didn't choose you! This is not fair!"

"You know what, Lavender? I don't care. You can have him. Like I said, I never wanted him anyways." The angry look on Lavender's face melted away into a triumphant, proud grin. Hermione never wanted to smack anyone more. How the two of them could've gotten along for the past week was beyond her. "This trip is the one and only time I will ever come in contact with Riddle, so you don't need to worry."

"Why don't you just cancel the trip?" Lavender asked. "Don't give me that crap about Tom being a wizard. Just call in sick, and I'll offer to take your place. That way, everyone is happy."

"I'm not going to lie just for your sake, Lavender," Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'm in enough trouble as it is. Listen closely, Lavender. You may believe yourself to be in love with Riddle, but I hope that one day, you'll see him for what he really is. He's a manipulative, conceited prick who-"

"If you finish that sentence, Granger, I may have to hurt you."

There, standing near the door, was the subject himself. And judging from the smug look on his face, he heard their whole argument.

"Tom!" Lavender squealed happily, a huge smile stretched out on her face. She looked nothing like the girl who had wanted to de-head Hermione moments ago. Hermione simply sneered at the girl's back, wondering what was wrong with her.

"Lavender." Riddle responded coolly, but barely glanced at her. His blue-grey eyes were staring into Hermione's hazel ones, and he wore a smirk. Lavender's smile quickly died down, and she glared at Hermione furiously.

"Riddle," Hermione sighed tiredly. She was not in the mood to deal with him, nor his smugness right now, especially with Lavender watching right there. "Is there something you needed?"

"Can't you believe I'm here to enjoy your company?" Riddle smirked, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. Lavender seemed to take it literally, and her face grew even redder. Hermione quickly moved away from her in case the girl decided to slap her.

"Yeah, sure," Hermione snorted. "Because we enjoy each other's presence _so_ much." Lavender didn't seem to understand sarcasm, as her eyes were still shooting daggers.

"That certainly isn't what you thought when we were _talking_, earlier," he wore a pleasant smile, but Hermione could see a smirk under it. "I'm positive you weren't enjoying my presence at all. That was why you were obviously melting into a puddle when I talked to you."

That was aimed at Lavender, and it worked. The girl's anger flared up even more that it already was. Harry's eyebrows shot up so high, they disappeared under his shaggy hair. He had a look of disbelief on his face.

Hermione was unfazed. "You forced yourself on me, Riddle. Don't try to blame this on me."

"Keep telling that to yourself, Granger." Riddle said loftily, but there was an amused tone in his voice. He was definitely enjoying this way too much. "We both know what you really feel about me."

Hermione didn't dignify herself to respond, and instead just glared with the ferocity her father used had taught her.

Riddle narrowed his eyes for a fraction of a second and sighed again. "Sarcasm aside, I'm here to escort you upstairs. You were supposed to come up five minutes ago."

Her argument with Lavender had caused the time to fly by rather fast. "Okay, okay," she gathered up her never ending bag. "I'm coming."

"Why?" Lavender suddenly found her voice, and Hermione was surprised at how strong it was. "Why her, and not me, Tom?" Hermione didn't admit it, but she was rather curious about that as well. She listened carefully.

A sadistic sneer spread across his face, but Hermione knew that it was as fake as her 'supposed feelings for Riddle' were, and Hermione knew that whatever was going to come out of his mouth wasn't going to be good. "That's because," he said, grabbing Hermione's arm as she walked near him. She winced slightly as his finger nails pressed into her skin, an action that was not unnoticed by Harry. He frowned, and stared concernedly at Hermione. "I wanted a _real_witch to accompany me."

Whatever was left of Lavender's happiness deflated immediately, and Hermione momentarily directed her anger at Riddle. There was nothing left in her. "What the hell?" She asked furiously, ripping her arm out of his grasp. "You didn't have to be so rude."

"Shut it, Granger." His eyes locked into hers, but Hermione saw no trace of remorse, not trace of anything. Not that she expected to find anything; she knew Riddle had the perfect poker face, and even if he did feel remorse, he would certainly not show it. "You've kept Abraxas waiting for long enough as it is with your stupid banter. We have to leave now."

_Yeah, like you care if Abraxas has been waiting._However, she allowed Riddle to drag herself out of the room, and she cast one last look into it. Lavender was sobbing pitilessly on her bed. Hermione herself was still appalled by Lavender's words. The blonde actually had the nerve to accuse her of it all.First Abraxas, and now even Lavender was taken away from her because of Riddle. Hermione glared at him, and he returned with a smirk, seeming to know exactly what she was thinking. He was insufferable, and she began planning a thousand ways she could kill him, just because he annoyed her.

Harry was still in the same position he had been when Lavender had burst into her room. His eyes flicked between Riddle and Hermione, and his forehead creased slightly. His face was still a mixture of confusion and disbelief, but there was also a little bit of concern. 'Be careful,' he mouthed at her. 'Stay safe.'

If only it was that easy.

**_To Be Continued…_**


	6. Chapter 5 Little Hangleton

**Author's Note: **As you probably have realized already, underage magic _is_ allowed here. This chapter is mostly about their backgrounds. It's one of the longer chapters, and I hope you enjoy it. Kind of OOC for some characters.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money. There is one scene in this chapter that is from HBP, which unfortunately does not belong to me.

* * *

><p><em>Tap tap tap.<em>

Hermione sighed irritably, erasing some words and replacing it with others. The letter had to be absolutely perfect, but she was having little success with it. She had spent the last hour or so revising it, but she hadn't gotten past the first three words. _I miss you_. Well, of course she did, and she was pretty sure he knew it too. He easily filled up an entire parchment, and this was Nick she was talking about. The same Nick who only wrote two feet while she went overboard and wrote ten. Why couldn't she do it?

_Tap tap tap._

Maybe she should tell him about her life? But nothing had really happened. While she trusted him enough to tell him about her mission, that stuff would better be told in person. Mail could easily get intercepted. What else could she talk about? Riddle? Hermione smirked at that thought. Yes, she was sure Nick would _love_ to hear about him. Hermione sighed again. There was absolutely nothing to write about.

_Tap tap tap._

"Would you stop it?" Riddle glared at her. Hermione looked up from her spot across from him. Being a Malfoy, Abraxas rented an entire train for them to ride. However, for some reason, Riddle wouldn't allow her to sit alone and instead made her sit in the same compartment as him. To top it off, His Royal Highness had been in a pissy mood ever since they left. Abraxas sat next to Riddle, reading a book. He too looked up when Riddle spoke. "Your tapping is driving me insane."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I tap when I write," she informed him coolly, and went back to what she was doing. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Riddle glowering at her. "It helps keep me concentrated."

"Concentrated?" Riddle snorted. "Why would you need to be concentrated? I'm sure whatever crap you write, your dear secret boyfriend Nick would love it."

Hermione's head flew up and she gaped at him. "H-how did you know?" she stammered at him, enraged when he smirked. "Why, you insufferable prick! Why are you looking at my mail? Ever heard of privacy?"

Riddle looked amused. "Calm down, Granger. _I _didn't do anything. Lavender's the one who told me. She's been invading your privacy, so why don't you go yell at her? I'm the innocent one."

_Innocent. Yeah right._ At the mention of Lavender, Hermione sobered up immediately, and she turned away and stared out the window. She was not going to let the girl ruin her trip, but she felt bad about the state she had left Lavender in. She hoped Harry was taking care of her.

She had never been to this part of London before; the urban part had been replaced with lush green forests. How long had it been since she'd seen a real forest, not one ruined by all the environmental issues? Hermione sighed and gazed outside dreamily. It reminded her of her home, but she had never heard of Little Hangleton before, so there must be some distance between them.

Her home. Hermione sighed. How long had it been since she had last been allowed to go there? It felt like decades, when in reality, it had been just a few years. She especially missed the garden, when she would spend hours in it reading. She wondered if it was still there, and if the housekeepers were still tending the plants. She hoped they were. Her father had kept her away from it for the last few years, though Hermione had never figured out why. Maybe there was something special hidden in it.

"Earth to Granger."

Hermione snapped out of her memories and looked into the irritated eyes of Riddle. He had been in a crappy mood ever since a little girl ran into him on the streets, making him drop his ring onto the cobblestone path. It had been amusing to watch, though the little girl was so terrified, Hermione thought she would faint. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Someone's awfully distracted," Riddle smirked. "Must be my lovely presence."

Hermione couldn't even find the effort to roll her eyes at him. Instead, she went back to staring out the window dreamily. "It's not that—I just…haven't seen this many trees in a long time." She said softly. "It reminds me a lot of my home."

_Crap._ As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She whirled around to see Riddle staring at her, amused. He had obviously caught her slipup, and he hadn't even set it up. She had spilled all by herself. "Your home?" he asked. Abraxas had decided that the conversation was more interesting than his book, and dropped it in his bag. He, too, stared out her with big, innocent eyes. Riddle's mouth curled up into another smirk. "Do tell."

Hermione huffed. She had to stop letting him get the upper hand. She let things slip too easily. Riddle, on the other hand, had never spoken anything about his personal life. Hermione thought that she was exceptional at keeping secrets, but in reality, Riddle was the master. "Why don't you tell me about your home?" she countered, and was pleased to see Riddle scowl. "Whenever you're ready, Riddle."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why do _you_ want to know?"

Before Riddle could respond, a woman came in with the trolley and beamed at them. Hermione wondered what she did the rest of the time, since the rest of the train was empty. "Food?" she asked happily, obviously not sensing the tension of the air, especially around Riddle.

"Um," Hermione said, looking at all of the selections. They all looked good, but then again, she barely had anything to eat at the Manor. She had sometimes snuck some food out, and Abraxas had saved some for her, but she was always still hungry. She fingered the limited amount of coins she had in her pocket. Abraxas had given them to her as a precaution. "How much are these?"

"Oh, no, dear," the woman smiled down at her. "These have already been paid for by Mister Malfoy over there. You can pick whatever you want."

Hermione glanced over at Abraxas, who was grinning. He wasn't kidding when he said he had everything covered. Hermione turned back to the trolley lady and said, "Oh, well, if that's the case, may I have one of everything?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Abraxas's jaw drop quite dramatically, while a look of surprise crossed Riddle's face. His mask was quickly back on, though Hermione was positive she had seen his mask slip, even if it was just for a few milliseconds. The trolley lady, however, showed no reaction other than a small smile, and quickly unloaded half of the items onto the seat next to her. Hermione thanked her and ripped open the closet item.

"Would you two like anything?" she asked Riddle and Abraxas kindly. They both eyed the pile of goods next to Hermione, and then to Hermione, stuffing a chocolate bar into her mouth, and shook their heads. The lady gave a small curtsy, one last beam at Hermione, and quickly left the compartment.

"Granger, I didn't expect you were one to waste food," Riddle smirked at her when the trolley lady was out of the compartment. Hermione had moved on to a bag of jellybeans, tearing it open loudly. He and Abraxas watched her stuff her face, rather amused.

"Waste?" she asked, and then made a face. "Ew, I hate kiwi. And I am _not_ wasting, Riddle. What, you think I can't finish this?" She quickly emptied the contents of the bag and moved onto the M&Ms. "I don't care if I get fat. Food is food."

ஐ

Riddle smirked. This girl was unique alright. He remembered at Hogwarts, the amount of girls sobbing pitilessly because of their weight. Pathetic. They should worry more about their magic casting skills than their size. They weren't going to be spared just because they were _skinny_.

Now that he thought of it, Hogwarts girls were pitiable, period. They strode around with their high pitched squeals, as if they owned the place. They were delusional; all they cared about was making themselves pretty. Riddle didn't care if a girl was pretty; if she was ugly and had her uses, he was fine with that.

Then there came the fact that most of them couldn't even figure out how to use a wand. They might as well be muggles, the lot of them. Of course, no one, not even most of the professors at Hogwarts, equaled his magic skills. The old codger was an exception, and an annoying one at that. However, the most the girls knew how to do was cast a simple stunner. _Yeah, as if that'll save you from being murdered_, Riddle snorted.

Lavender would fit in perfectly. Come to think of it, the Hogwarts girls were extremely like Lavender with their obsessing over his good looks. He couldn't help that he was so handsome, but they really needed to get some self control and keep their hands to themselves. However, he didn't deny that he was an exceptional actor; his charms even affected Granger, though not as well as the other girls. But he already found out a long time ago that Granger was not the other girls.

Since Granger didn't seem to like Lavender too much, he could only guess she would flip if she ever went to Hogwarts. He would, too, if he had to spend every day sleeping in the same room as the girls. Riddle's lips curled into a smirk. Granger had no plans to go to Hogwarts. He had heard her talk to Abraxas about it. However, he was going to _make sure_ Granger went to Hogwarts. There was only so many days in a summer, and there was still more mysteries than answers with her. And like a detective, it was his job to crack every mystery.

"Hermione?" Abraxas sounded very amused, though he tried not to show it. His stomach rumbled loudly, and he grinned sheepishly. Hermione eyed him for a few seconds, and then directed her attention to the food next to her. "Can I have some of those colored circles?"

"They're called skittles, Abraxas." Hermione said, offhandedly. She had gone back to scribbling on her piece of parchment, though thankfully stopped her intolerable tapping. "I thought I made myself clear before. I am not going to share. Go get your own."

Abraxas displayed a look of mock hurt. "But I paid for all of those."

"I don't care. Get your own."

Riddle smirked as Abraxas huffed in frustration and got up, excusing himself to go to the bathroom. Perfect. Now he and Granger were alone. As quietly as possible, he snuck his wand out of his pocket and into his hand. Granger didn't even turn around. She was too focused on her precious candy to notice. Pointing the wand at her, he uttered a quiet stupefy.

As expected, Granger had her wand out in less than a second and she cast a nonverbal shield. Interesting. Her reflexes were one of the best he had ever seen, and he had seen his fair share. Also, she was advanced enough to cast some nonverbal spells. However, these were all rather simple, if one practiced enough. It told him very little. He wanted to see if she knew more. She looked at him wide-eyed. "Riddle, what are you-"

He didn't give her a chance to finish the sentence, and instead shot a body-binding spell at her. Once again, she cast a shield, but this time, she narrowed her eyes at him. Good. She was alert now. It made the duel even more exciting. Riddle raised an eyebrow at her, but she didn't seem to be too eager to attack him. Maybe she was worried about damaging his face. Riddle smirked. As if she could ever land a spell on him. However, he could play the game her way.

He sent the babbling curse at her next. He wanted to test her out before he could be too sure of her abilities. While he did want to break her, now was not the time to do so. There were too many witnesses, and there would be a suspicion around him if anything happened. However, Riddle wasn't sure he would break her even if they were alone; she was an interesting creature, much too interesting for him to just snap.

Granger didn't even bat an eye, and just step-sided it. She had apparently decided to put him under some pressure as well, as she sent the _avis_ curse at him. So the girl did know how to cast spells. Interesting. He waved his wand around lazily, and the birds vanished. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if saying, 'is that all you have?' His taunt work; she clenched her jaw and stood in a ready stance.

He was rather surprised when she opted for the disarming spell. With a twitch of annoyance, he realized she was holding back, just as he was. She didn't want to show him her true power. She just underestimated him, Riddle thought angrily. She was looking down on him. Well, then he'd just have to make her show her true power.

He twirled his wand around, and the red jet disappeared. Before Granger could react, he said smoothly, "Imperio." He saw, delightfully, Granger's eyes widen before the spell collided into her chest. A dreamy look washed over her eyes, and she stood perfectly still and stiff. Perfect. Now he had complete control over her.

"Now, Miss Granger," he said, his voice as soft as silk. She turned to him and gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen. He ignored it. "Why don't you show me your true powers? Let's start with a-"

"Sorry I took so long." Abraxas came in cheerfully. Riddle never hated him more. "The damn toilet wouldn't flush and—" He trailed off, looking at Riddle's wand pointed towards Hermione, and Hermione's wand pointing towards Riddle, though there was obviously something not right with her. "What are you two doing?" he asked, his forehead creased.

Riddle sighed. "We're dueling, Abraxas." He informed him, and then continued before he could stop himself. "But Granger here seemed to underestimate me, so I decided to put her under the Imperius to see how strong she really is." He caught the look of concern in the boy's eyes. "I'm not hurting her in anyway, except maybe her pride." He stared pointedly at Abraxas. "It would do you well if you sat back and did not interfere with my plans.

Abraxas sat down, but glanced nervously at Hermione and then back to Riddle, and then back to Hermione. "Um, My Lord?" he asked quietly. "I've seen an Imperius before, and I don't think that's supposed to happen."

Riddle glanced back at the girl. It was true; she was supposed to be still and silent and obedient. However, she was trembling, her whole body shaking. But what surprised Riddle the most was her eyes. They were positively murderous.

卐

Hermione had little time to prepare as the spell hit her straight in the chest. She couldn't stop thinking how incredibly stupid she was. Why had she allowed him to get the upper hand? Why had she frozen up when he had cast it? If she couldn't find the time to cast a shield, couldn't she at least dodge? What happened to her reflexes? Because of that, here she was again, under the dreaded curse. She could handle the Cruciatus, she could handle everything else, but she couldn't handle this. She had never been able to handle this.

She really was weak. The memories and hallucinations were going to come any moment now. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to feel the pain again. She had avoided this curse for so many years, only to be caught by Riddle. It seemed like Riddle had a knack for digging out her weaknesses, though he wasn't always aware of it.

"Now, Miss Granger," she heard Riddle's voice say. It was so smooth, so pleasant, so…_alluring_. "Why don't you show me your true powers? Let's start with a-" He was cut off by another person whose name she couldn't remember. It started with a vowel, and it had a rather strange letter in it, but she couldn't connect the letters together to make a word. Not that she wanted to; all she wanted was for Riddle to speak again. She would be more than happy to obey.

Suddenly, Riddle transformed into her father in front of her eyes. His blonde-white hair was exactly how she remembered it, and his lips were curled up in a nasty smirk. He fiddled with his wand, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of the nasty tortures that had been caused by that piece of wood.

It was the nightmare from her childhood.

"Why, Hermione, it's nice to see you again," Amusement was laced in his voice as he took a step towards her. Her whole body was trembling, and she took a step back fearfully. "Are you as happy to see me, my daughter?"

Hermione stumbled backwards. Unable to speak, she just shook her head. She was scared. She was very, very frightened.

"Cat got your tongue?" he laughed like he had just made the funniest joke ever. Perhaps he had; his humor was wacked, after all. "Well, I guess I'm going to be the only one talking at this family reunion, aren't I? Such a pity."

_Family reunion?_

Hermione glanced sideways, and found in horror her mother, bent over in pain. Her mother, who had always been so strong, who had always been there for her. She lifted her bloody face to meet Hermione's, and in her eyes she could see disappointment. Hermione turned back to her father angrily, only to find him laughing. How could he _laugh_?

"You brought this onto her," he said evilly. "This is your punishment for disobeying me." He glanced down in disgust at his wife groveling on the floor, and nonchalantly cast the killing curse at her. She slumped over as the green spell hit her. Hermione opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She clenched her fists so tight her knuckles turned white. Tears threatened to overflow. Her father, however, paid her no mind, hardly batting an eye.

"Now, I trust that you'll talk?" he sighed when she shook her head, biting her lip hard. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. When will you learn it's futile to go against me? Why don't you open your mouth, or the next one to go will be your _friend_."

"No, no. Not Nick. Please." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Not anyone else. Please don't hurt anyone else."

Her father eyed her tear stained face with disgust. He had never been one to show emotion, other than a few signs of insaneness every now and then. "Well, then, my dear, you'll have to accommodate my wishes as well, won't you?"

"I-I'll talk. W-what do you want to know about?"

Her father smirked triumphantly. "Why don't you tell me everything?" he asked smoothly. "About the part you played in your friend's fake death." He sighed, apparently bored. "It was brilliant, I'll give your friend that. But he forgot one thing; I'm _extraordinary._ He'll never escape me."

Hermione opened her mouth, but then a voice that sounded suspiciously like Nick's flooded her mind. _He doesn't own you. You don't owe him everything. The greatest defeat would be giving into him. Don't tell him what he wants to know._

_He'll never catch me._

Slowly, but surely, she brought her wand up so it was pointing at him. Her father eyed it for a couple seconds, and then laughed. He laughed, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever seen before. What he didn't realize was that Hermione was dead serious. He had taken enough from her for her life time. She wouldn't allow him to take something else.

"Why don't you put that wand down?" he said. "You and I both know that this is just a waste of time."

"NO!" She screamed at him, raising her wand up higher. Her father raised his eyebrows as her voice escalated higher. Hermione knew she sounded insane, but she didn't care. "SHUT UP! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK TO ME! STAY AWAY FROM ME."

Her father eyed her wand before taking two quick strides and pressing the wand directly into his chest. Hermione breathed out in fear at his proximity. "You don't have the guts, Hermione." He said quietly, never breaking eye contact. His eyes bore into hers like no one else's. Not even Riddle managed to have this effect one her. "You and I both know you're an innocent angel, so why don't you put down that wand?"

"I will hurt you," she said, but even she doubted it. The trembling in her voice gave her away. Her father raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not believing her. She tried again, willing her voice not to shake. "I _will_ hurt you."

"Go on, then," He laughed in her ear. "Give me your best shot, darling."

"Crucio," she yelled at him, and he only laughed when the curse went straight through his body. She cast the spell another three times, all yielding the same result as the first. Her father grabbed the tip of her wand and guided it to his head, where it pressed into the skin of his forehead.

"Now, Hermione, a simple torture won't do," he cackled. "Why don't you prove to me you're not the innocent, naïve girl I thought you were? Why don't you kill me?" he offered his suggestion as calmly as if he was talking about the weather. "Because you both know you can't."

His goading finally got the better of her. She wasn't an angel. She wasn't innocent. She was Hermione Granger, a girl who would do anything to protect a friend. He was her father, and she would hurt him. In a voice that was strangely strong, she hissed at him. "Avada Kedavra."

Her father vanished.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is wrong with you?"<p>

Hermione straightened herself up to see both Riddle and Abraxas scowling at her, though they both had a look of…shock? Hermione noticed that she had scattered all her food on the floor and bent down the pick them up. The sound of the goods tumbling in their boxes was the only sound in the entire compartment.

"I-I'm sorry." She stammered, avoiding eye contact. "Memories come back when I'm placed under the Imperius, but they usually pass by rather quickly." They were definitely getting better though; she was handling the situation much better now, though anyone would after being through the same hallucination for so many times. She was making improvement. It was still difficult, of course, but it was a step forward.

Hermione suddenly remembered. "Speaking of which, what the hell is wrong with _you_? What was with your Imperius stunt there?"

Riddle ignored her question and just glared at her. "I have memories too," he informed her coldly. "But none of which include me casting Crucio four times at two innocent boys in the same compartment, and then follow it up with the killing curse. So let me ask you again, Granger. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hermione had frozen in place. She had actually _cast_ the curse? She had never done that before. But then again, she had never actually managed to get rid of her father; her captor would always end the curse before she could find the courage to. However, a glance at Abraxas told her all she needed to know. The boy looked awfully shaken up, and Hermione could see the window next to him cracked. Her wand lay next to her, and she didn't miss the flinch Abraxas gave when she picked it up.

Hermione trembled. What had she _done_? It was always the same memory. Why had it been harder to deal with this time? Was it because her relationship with her father was not life and death anymore? Did she start to develop feelings for him again? He was her father, of course, but he was evil. There was no way she could let herself become attached to him again.

She hung her head in shame and let her tears fall. She was going to feel embarrassed later, Riddle would most definitely tease her, but the situation was already bad enough. There was no way she could make it worse.

"Granger, are you crying?" asked Riddle in an incredulous tone. She couldn't raise her head to meet either Abraxas's or Riddle's eyes.

"No, I'm peeing from my eyes," Hermione said sarcastically, and then sniffed. "Yes, I'm crying, Riddle. Don't sound so surprised."

"I've never thought you were one to cry."

Hermione ignored him. "I'm sorry. I've caused enough trouble as it is." She headed towards the door and pulled it open. She would just go into the next compartment and cry herself to sleep. "I'll just go in the compartment next door. I promise I won't cause any more trouble-"

The door suddenly slammed close with alarming force that Hermione was sure that if her head had been one inch to the right, it would've gone splat. Hermione raised her head and saw Riddle, his wand in his hand, his face livid. Abraxas was eyeing the boy and his wand fearfully, edging away slowly. Riddle, however, paid him no mind.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked murderously. "Did I tell you to go anywhere? Sit down."

Hermione sat.

He paced around the compartment angrily. Abraxas had decided to stay out of it, but he had a worried look on his face. Hermione didn't miss the fact that he had placed himself far away from her as well. Hermione tried to ignore the cold, gripping feeling in her chest.

"Stop crying," Riddle snapped at her, after a few minutes of sniffling pitilessly. "I thought you were stronger than this, Granger." He was right, as always. This was just pathetic. Strong girls didn't cry. She quickly wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, but didn't dare to raise her eyes to meet Riddle's.

Riddle waited until she had calmed herself down before saying, "Tell me about your memory." His voice was surprisingly soft, and Hermione almost thought she imagined it. However, Riddle wore that expectant look on his face, all traces of anger gone. He had put his wand away and resumed his pacing, never taking his eyes off of hers. His eyes had lightened up slightly, returning to their usual blue-grey color. They were mesmerizing.

"Erm, you know," She looked away awkwardly. She was afraid her eyes would start raking up and down his body any moment. _That_ would be embarrassing. She could keep her ogling to herself. "It's just from the time that my mother died. It always happens when someone puts me under the Imperius." She shrugged. "No big deal."

"Didn't look like no big deal." Riddle's eyes darkened once again, and Hermione gulped nervously. However, he seemed to gain control over himself, and instead asked in a much calmer voice, "Your mother died?"

_CRAP._ How did he manage to do it? Why did all he have to do was ask a simple question, and she'd suddenly babble to him everything? He hadn't needed to do any work himself! She was the one giving him all the answers.

That was it. She was done. She huffed and crossed her arms, staring out the window. Riddle had sighed, but didn't force her. However, before Riddle went to sit back down, he walked over to her side and patted her head awkwardly. He was back in his seat by the time Hermione turned around, reading the newspaper leisurely. Hermione thought she had imagined it, but she caught Abraxas sneaking amused glances at Riddle.

Hermione hid a small smile for the rest of the trip.

卐

Hermione didn't think it was humanely possible to get lost so quickly. After all, at her walking pace, it took her at least ten seconds to wander away. So it should've taken her at least ten seconds to get lost.

She was wrong. It only took four.

She scanned around, but she couldn't find neither Riddle's nor Abraxas's head bobbing through the crowd. At five foot four, she was easily blocked by the crowd. Where were they? All she had done was turn around to look at the fabulous books on display, and then they disappeared. Hermione scowled. They had left her all alone in the middle of a strange, London street.

Indeed it was weird. Hermione would never have guessed that Little Hangleton was a _muggle_ town. Riddle had said that his father lived here. Did that mean that his father was a muggleborn? If he was, didn't that make Riddle a half blood, or a muggleborn himself? No, he would not have held himself so highly if he was a muggleborn. He had to be a half blood. That sounded strange to her mind; Hermione had never thought of him for anything other than pureblood.

_Riddle and I are the same, then. Hah._

Hermione looked around one more time, but not finding Abraxas's blonde locks nor Riddle's dark hair, she sighed and turned towards the bookstore. A few minutes of browsing couldn't hurt, could it? If they weren't there now, what was the chance they would come in the time she was in there? Plus, she could always look out the window. She was sure she wouldn't miss it if Abraxas's bright hair flashed by outside.

She entered happily. The smell of paper reached her nose, and she inhaled deeply. She didn't care that it was a muggle bookstore. Books were books. She wandered around, not searching for anything in particular. Just being around books improved her mood significantly.

After browsing for a couple of minutes, Hermione picked up a huge textbook circling around cats. She had always wanted one, and she figured it was a good time to learn about them. _Never know when Father decides to get me a pet_, Hermione snickered. She opened the book happily while wandering towards the front of the store to pay. Hermione figured that Abraxas wouldn't mind, and Riddle wouldn't find the effort to care. A book on dark arts? Maybe. However, a book about cats? Of course not; it posed no threat.

She was so engrossed in her book that she didn't realize there was someone in front of her until she walked straight into them. The book flew out of her hands and fell to the ground with a thump.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked, stumbling backwards. In front of a grown man with dark sunglasses masking his eyes. She couldn't see his facial features, but his face shape combined with his hair surprised her. He looked strangely familiar, though she couldn't place her hand on it. It annoyed her, to not know things.

"No, it's all me," he said smoothly, bending down and picking her book up for her. She thanked him, and he nodded, standing back up. Hermione noted, absentmindedly, that she hardly reached his chin. He offered his hand, and she shook it. "Are you alright, Miss…?"

"Hermione." She said, blushing slightly when he flashed her a grin. Again, something about him seemed very familiar. "I'm really sorry about this…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"That's because I didn't say it." He looked away, almost as if he were embarrassed about it. Before Hermione could question it, however, he turned back towards her and smiled. "Just call me Tim."

"Alright, Tim," she nodded. "Sorry for bumping into you. I'll take my leave now. It's nice to meet you." She smiled and turned around, jumping out of her skin when he grabbed her elbow.

"Sorry for startling you," he said, not sounding very apologetic at all. "Hermione, was it? You don't seem familiar, so I'm guessing you've never been to Little Hangleton before." Hermione shook her head. "If that's the case, would you like me to show you around?"

"Erm," Hermione's mind was whirling. Abraxas and Riddle should have noticed she was gone by now, and would want to know where she was. Also, she desperately wanted to start with her book. Also, the saying, '_Don't trust strangers_,' crossed her mind. "I think I'm fine, Tim. I wouldn't want to bother you."

"Nonsense." Tim threw some coins onto the counter. The girl behind it flashed him a flirty smile. He seemed to be well known around the town. Hermione, however, just stared at him in shock. "There, now I paid for you, so you are indebt to me. How about some ice cream?"

_No, no, no, no, no! He's a wacko! He's coming out of nowhere and asking you to eat with him! You don't even know the man._

Her stomach, however, spoke different. It chose the moment to rumble loudly, causing Tim to chuckle. Hermione blushed and looked away. It had been some time since she had eaten her goodies on the train, so it was natural that she was hungry again.

"Okay," Hermione said, retrieving her book from the girl behind the counter. "You're lucky I'm hungry, though I'll have to leave as soon as we're done. I have a lot of work to do." As if to prove her point, she waved her book in front of his face a couple of times before putting it in her bag.

"You're in luck. I know the perfect place." Tim said smoothly, holding the door open for her. "Once you get a taste of their ice cream, you will never want to leave."

Hermione laughed uneasily. Why had she agreed to accompany the man? He was becoming weirder and weirder the more he talked. Since when did adults promote ice cream obsession? She wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, but Tim's legs were considerably longer than hers, and she had never been a fast runner anyways. He would catch up to her in no time.

"And here is Frankie's Ice Cream!" Tim presented, jolting Hermione out of her thoughts. The little shop looked quite nice, and he led her over to one of the booths. At least it was close enough to the door that she could run to if necessary. The waiter came, handing them the menus and greeting Tim happily, before returning to his spot behind the counter. Tim seemed to get around in the town. "Best ice cream place in all of England. Never eaten better."

Hermione nodded and scanned down the menu. There really were a lot of selections. This place was so much fancier than the ice cream stands she used to see in front of the hospital. She had never seen ice cream so beautiful before. The only form she had ever seen it before was a small scoop on a cone, and that was it. Hermione could suddenly see that those people lacked serious creativity. Their ice cream cones were plain; this was art.

She was suddenly well aware of the fact that Tim wasn't even looking at his menu, and was instead staring at her. She felt extremely uneasy and raised her eyes to meet his questioningly. He gestured towards her menu, as if telling her to hurry and decide.

"What are you getting?" she asked, trying to start a friendly conversation that would get rid of all of the awkwardness. She glanced out the window every few seconds to see if Abraxas or Riddle had come to get her, but no savior came.

"I'm not getting anything. I'm not hungry."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "Come on, you need to get something. What, are you just going to watch me eat?"

A smirk graced his face, and it informed Hermione that that was exactly what he had planned to do. However, he seemed to change his mind and shrugged. "I'll just get a scoop of vanilla. I'll take a break from the fancier stuff."

"Do you come here often?" Hermione asked politely, waving the waiter over. Tim nodded. Hermione ordered a simple strawberry milkshake, which arrived in less than a minute. Hermione took a sip and sighed happily; Tim wasn't kidding when he said that the food here was the best. Even the milk shake exceeded her standards, something that was very hard to do.

They sat for a couple minutes in silence, when Tim spoke up. "Where are you from, Hermione?"

"I'm from Russia." Hermione answered honestly. Indeed, she had been born in Russia, but her mother had quickly brought her to England. She didn't remember anything about Russia, to be honest. She knew England so much better, and she considered England to be her home. Her father, on the other hand, was a different case. He loved Russia so much that Hermione could swear that if Russia was a person, he would marry her.

"Very nice," he swirled his ice cream around with his spoon. "Do you speak Russian?"

"No," Hermione confessed, dabbing at her mouth gently with her napkin. "I spent very little time in Russia, so I speak mostly English. I do know a few words, but I am not even close to being fluent. What about you?"

"I've lived in Little Hangleton all my life." Tim said, staring dreamily out the window at something Hermione could not see. "I sometimes wonder how the outside world is. I've never been outside this peaceful community, so I wonder what is past these boundaries."

Hermione snorted, and then immediately blushed when he raised his eyebrows at her un-ladylike sound. She had been around Riddle for far too long, and she was starting to act without thinking. "The outside world is nothing extraordinary." She told him. "In fact, sometimes I wish I didn't know about it."

"Why not?" he inquired curiously.

He had asked the wrong question. Hermione dove right into a lecture about corruption and explaining the different types of problems there were with government and environmentally. Tim surprised her by being more educated than she thought, throwing in some of his own opinions and arguments time to time. While Hermione finished her milkshake quite quickly, she found herself in no rush to leave.

Yes, she decided afterwards. She liked Tim just fine.

卐

"Hermione's gone," Abraxas said, looking around. Indeed she was, however, now wasn't the time to dwell on it. If the girl couldn't keep herself from wandering off, that was her own problem. Riddle spun on his heels and hurried down the cobble path, Abraxas scrambling to catch up to him.

All around him were _muggles_. He didn't understand why his uncle would have to live in a place like this. First his mother had to be married to a filthy mudblood, and now his uncle had to live in the same village as them? Disgusting. They were all unworthy of carrying the Gaunt name.

"My Lord?" Abraxas panted, slightly out of breath. Riddle paid him no mind and instead just pushed ahead. They had reached a more deserted part of the town. Their footsteps echoed loudly. "If I may ask…where exactly are we going?"

"Did I say you could speak, Abraxas?" Riddle hissed at him, and the blonde boy next to him closed his mouth. The only reason he had brought him along was so Granger would be more willing to come along with him. He had been rather curious about the witch, and perhaps he acted a tad irrationally. However, now was not the time he wanted to deal with either of them. There was something much more important in front of him.

He stopped shabby looking house and turned around to glance at Abraxas. He was staring at Riddle expectantly, as if he was suddenly going to ask Abraxas to accompany him to a get a cup of tea. Riddle sighed and said, "I'm going inside now. You are free to do whatever you want," Riddle stared pointedly. "But you are not to come inside."

"But, My Lord-" Abraxas started to protest, but Riddle just calmly stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, effectively cutting off the remainder of Abraxas's sentence. Riddle would deal with him later.

When he turned around, he had expected to see an elegant wizard with clean robes. After all, that was how he had always imagined his uncle. Instead, he saw a drunk man staggering upright, many bottles clattered on the floor. He was staring at him in disgust, and even a little…fear? Riddle's mouth curled up into a nasty smirk, which was quickly wiped away when the man pulled out a wand and a knife, pointing them at him. This was obviously not his uncle; his uncle would have never resorted to the use of muggle weapons, such as knives.

"YOU!" he bellowed. "YOU!"

Riddle merely raised his eyebrows, waiting for the man to calm down. However, he did the opposite; he drew his arm back as if he were about to through the knife at him. Riddle grew irritated; this kind of behavior was unacceptable.

"_Stop._"

The man was so surprised, he dropped his knife and stared. It wasn't often one heard Parseltongue; there were so little individuals in the world gifted with this beautiful language. A long silence settled between the two, before the man broke it.

"_You speak it?_"

"_Yes, I speak it_," Riddle watched in disgust as his supposed 'uncle' swayed back and forth, clutching the table for support. He had originally thought, _prayed_ even, that he had gotten the wrong house, but seeing as the man in front of him could speak and understand Parseltongue, there was no doubt; this was his _dear_ mother's brother, and Riddle was almost as disgusted as he was when he thought of his father.

"_Where is Marvolo?_" he asked. Marvolo was supposed to have the Slytherin locket. He needed to find him. He needed the locket.

"_Dead,_" His uncle replied. "_Died years ago, didn't he?_"

Riddle frowned. This was not part of his plan. He had never heard of Marvolo's death. How could he obtain information from a dead person? This made his job so much harder. "_Who are you, then?"_

"_I'm Morfin, ain't I?"_

"_Marvolo's son?_" Of course, Riddle already knew the answer. He had done his research quite thoroughly. He would've never come here if he wasn't completely sure.

"'_Course I am, then…"_ Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face, and with this action, Riddle saw the ring that he wore on his right hand. _There it was_. The real ring. He eyed it with greed. He would get his hands on it soon enough. A simple stunner should do it, but not before Morfin gave him more information.

"_I thought you was that Muggle,"_ whispered Morfin. Riddle felt his magic rising violently, lashing out. He was being compared to a filthy mudblood. How _dare_ he. "_You look mighty like that Muggle."_

"_What Muggle?_" Riddle asked sharply. Surely, Morfin wasn't talking about his father.

"_That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way," _Morfin said, spitting on the floor. His eyes looked murderous, but they were nothing compared to what Riddle was feeling. "_You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…"_

Morfin looked slightly dazed and swayed a little, clutching onto the edge of the table for support. Riddle paid him no mind, thinking furiously. He was a perfect image of his father? That was disturbing. He carried the face of the man he hated, but at the same time, it would be easy to single him out from the crowd.

"_He come back, see,"_ Morfin added stupidly, and Riddle narrowed his eyes at him. He moved in a little closer and said,

"_Riddle came back?_"

"_Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!" _ Morfin spit on the floor again, and this time, Riddle didn't even try to hide his look of disgust. Morfin didn't notice and continued, _"Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?"_

Riddle was outraged. So the locket hadn't been in Marvolo's possession? It had been in his _mother's_? His mudblood loving mother? Riddle sneered. She was unworthy of holding such a valuable item, just like Morfin was unworthy of holding the ring that currently rested on his finger.

Morfin suddenly picked up his knife again and shouted, "_Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit...It's over..."_

Morfin started to babble nonsense, and Riddle realized he would be getting no more information out of his drunk uncle, and cast a simple stunning spell. Morfin slumped over his arm chair. He would be back for him later, after he had dealt with his father. He couldn't let the suspicion arise around him, and he sure Morfin wouldn't mind taking his place. The man was so far out of his mind, he _deserved_ any punishment that he got.

Reaching down, he plucked the ring from Morfin's dirty fingers, replacing the ring on his own finger with it. Hepzibah Smith had given him a fake one. She certainly had the nerve, and was rather stupid, thinking she could trick him. However, she still had much knowledge stored away in that brain of hers, and he had many uses for her. Riddle was sure that she had Hufflepuff's cup somewhere in her possession, and would only be a matter of time before she told him where it was. He would disposal of her when he was done with her.

Riddle narrowed his eyes and performed one last scan, not surprised when he didn't find anything in the messy room. There was nothing of use, but the trip hadn't been a complete waste. He twirled his new ring around, feeling much more powerful.

_It will only be a matter of time_, he thought to himself. _Just a little longer everyone will look up to you. Everyone will be in your command._ His mind immediately flashed to the bushy haired witch, and he smirked. Yes, he would have fun making her beg.

His mood was lightened up considerably by that thought, and he opened the door swiftly, stepping outside, slightly startled when he saw Abraxas standing in the exact same spot he had left him in.

"What are you doing here?" Riddle asked suspiciously, closing the door quietly behind him.

"I—er—was waiting for you, My Lord." Abraxas cast his eyes towards the ground, bowing his head. "I heard some of the townspeople talking, and they said that the person who lived there was not very pleasant, and that he was a dangerous person."

Riddle grew irritated as he walked, closing the gap between him and the blonde hair boy. Abraxas twitched nervously, eyeing Riddle's hand as it went towards his wand. "Were you worried about me?" he asked softly and dangerously. "Did you not think I could handle myself?"

"No!" Abraxas shook his head fearfully. "I-I just came back to see how you were doing."

"How much did you hear?" Riddle hissed at him, eyes narrowed. Abraxas would prove a witness to his association with Morfin, and though he was one of the only people Riddle actually trusted, Riddle had no doubt Dumbledore could easily break into Abraxas's mind. The meddlesome out fool, sticking his nose where it didn't belong. "Eyes up, Abraxas."

Nervously, Abraxas raised his eyes to meet Riddle's, and Riddle scanned them for awhile. He discovered, irritated, that the boy was indeed telling the truth. Damn, now he had wasted his time, _and_ he didn't even have the pleasure of cursing the boy. Well, he could relent his anger quite easily; the big house Morfin talked about was right over the hill, and he would be reaching it soon enough. He turned on his heels and left Abraxas behind, though he wasn't surprised when the boy caught up quickly.

"My Lord?" Abraxas dared to say. He seemed to have gotten his courage back. He probably figured that after Riddle had read his mind, there was nothing worse that could be done to him. Well, he was wrong on that count. Riddle could easily think of at least five worse ways of torture."If I may ask, where exactly are you going?"

Riddle scowled and walked even faster, but the other boy had longer legs than he did, so he was just wasting his energy. He was like a puppy, clinging to its master. "I am going," he told him in a cold voice. His eyes must've turned back red, as Abraxas shield back, but he didn't care. "To take my revenge."

ஐ

Hermione laughed happily. She hadn't been so carefree in such a long time. The sun was setting. She hadn't realized how fast time had flown by. Tim had shown her a few more spots in the village, each more brilliant than the next, and Hermione soon forgot about her desire to read. Her book lay forgotten in her bag. She knew she really had to get back to Abraxas and Riddle, but a few minutes couldn't hurt, could it? Tim was starting to remind her more and more of the father she never had. She had grown on him so much already.

Tim had bought her sunglasses like his, refusing her attempt to pay for them and to pay him back for her book, and the two had engaged in a girly fight, pawing weakly at each other. She had lost, and she now wore her new sunglasses happily, even though it greatly darkened her vision. They made a small turn into a back alley, and Tim stopped.

"See that?" he pointed to a small narrow path that seemed to disappear off into nowhere. "That's the path I used to take when I was little. I would sneak out of my house to come eat at Frankie's. The waitress there would promise to keep my secret if I came to visit her every day."

"And did you?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Of course. I was a kid. I couldn't resist the temptations of ice cream," Tim laughed. "Then there came the day where my mom found out. It wasn't pretty. She was wondering why I was getting so fat." Tim's eyes twinkled as he spoke of his childhood.

"What did she do then?" Hermione asked, rather amused. The wind had picked up, and she brushed the hair out of her eyes. It was getting cold, but she paid it no mind.

"Oh, she did what any other mom would do. She locked me in every night, nailing all the windows shut and stuff. I would always spend my nights plotting how to get out of my jail. Eventually, I did, but I didn't consider the fact that my mom would come check on me each night." Tim shrugged. "Regardless, my nightly adventures ended there, but I still use the path sometimes."

"Sounds cool," Hermione nodded. "I always wished I had secret escape routes, but I didn't in my house. At least, if there were, I never found them. I used to try to dig my own, but my parents would always find out." Hermione smiled, remembering the time her father had walked into her room and saw her butt sticking of a hole on the wall. It was one of the only times he had been shocked speechless.

"Sounds like we both had entertaining childhoods," Tim grinned, and then glanced in the distance. "I think it's about time for me to get back. It was nice meeting you, Hermione."

"Yes, I have to get back too." She smiled at him. "Thank you so much for today, Tim. I enjoyed it so much. I never knew that Mentos combined with coke could make a dangerous weapon."

"That's common knowledge here, so don't give me too much credit. However, I am glad you had fun. I had a lot too. Feel free to swing around if you ever come to this little town again-" He was cut off when two grown men hobbled over. Hermione took a step back, narrowing her eyes.

"Look what we have 'ere." The shorter man grinned, his tooth rotten. "A young couple, out in the back alley. I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" he cackled, like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said.

Hermione glanced at Tim. He was at least twenty years older than her, so the prospect of dating him made her retch more than the idea of Abraxas and her had. It was as if someone asked her to date her father. Tim seemed to think the same thing, and he made a face at the two men while backing him and Hermione up at the same time.

"No yer don't," two more men appeared from behind them, blocking Tim's secret path. They both brandished knives, and looked as insane as the first two men had. Hermione grimaced. This was not good, to be caught in a muggle back alley. Their voices would never be heard over the loud bustling crowd on the main street, not to mention she couldn't use her wand. Sure, she could obliviate all of them, including Tim, but an obliviating spell could easily be broken by an able wizard. She didn't want to get in trouble for revealing magic to the muggle world.

"Please put those knives down," she told them dryly. "They're quite dangerous, and they are not good objects to play around with." She eyed it tiredly. "You might stab yourself."

The man behind her licked his lips and grinned. He didn't catch her insult, but Hermione hadn't expected him to. Even though they were standing at least five feet apart, Hermione could smell his breath, and it made a skunk seem like an angel. "Now, darling, what would you do to get your boyfriend out of this situation?"

"They seem to think I'm a pedophile," Tim muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes discretely. Only he could find humor in such desperate times. Hermione resisted the urge to smile; it would give the men the wrong impression.

"Hm," Hermione pretended to think, and then stalked slowly towards the man who had spoken, to the surprise of everyone. As she neared him, she could see lust in his eyes. He truly was a pig. Tim yelled at her not to give herself up, but fell silent when the short man pointed his knife at him. That was better; she didn't want Tim to be in danger as well. There was no way she could take on four grown men while defending him at the same time.

"You want to know what I would give?" she asked in her best flirty voice. She sounded extremely silly to her ears, but the man seemed to buy it, lowering his guard. His grip on his weapon lessened considerably. Perfect. Her finger trailed down his arm to his hand, where he held the knife. She gently gripped it with her fingers. "I would give this." And before he could react, her hand connected with his face, sending him flying into the wall. His knife remained in her hand, warm to her touch.

Before anyone else could move, she threw the knife with accuracy towards the man who was closest to her. _The first time Nick showed me, I thought he was completely psycho. No human can throw like that_, Hermione mused to herself. Completely caught by surprise, her knife connected with his and sent it flying. Hermione noted, rather annoyed, that her knife had barely skimmed over the edge. She was out of practice. Before he had a chance to register what had happened, she struck the back of his neck and he slumped over. Perfect. Two to go, and they were both on the same side. Now, she wouldn't have to worry about watching her back.

Tim was still frozen, staring at her in shock, but the other two men snapped out of it. The shorter man charged at her, but he was clearly all words and no actions. She didn't even need to knock the knife from him and just hit him on the side of the head. He fell immediately.

The other man seemed to think that throwing the knife at her would make it better, but it was so terribly off target, she didn't even need to dodge. That left her facing a weaponless man, who was beginning to look scared at the cold look on her face. Good. She walked up slowly to him, making sure to cut off his escape route. He held up his fists, but he had already known he lost. Without putting much effort, her fist connected with his jaw, and he stumbled backwards, retaliating. However, one more well-placed blow in the head and he crumbled.

Hermione wiped her hands off on her jeans, feeling her heart beating loudly. She loved the adrenaline rush she got when fighting. "Well," she said loudly. "That's that."

Tim was still rooted in the same spot. "W-what was that?" he asked, shocked. For a second, Hermione thought he was angry, but his face lightened up immediately. "That was _amazing_! I didn't know you had it in you, Hermione. I thought we were done for."

"Never give up," she walked over to him and grinned. "There's always a chance you'll win."

"Four to one? The chance is quite small."

"Well, I did alright, didn't I?" she shrugged. "And I had you as well."

"Lot's of good I would do for you," Tim said. "I'm just an extra baggage you have to carry around."

"Oh, Tim. Don't say that,"

Hermione's eyes drifted towards the short man on the floor, who had apparently regained conscience. However, he was clearly still dazed, his eyes glassy and unfocused. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up. His eyes were cross-eyed and rolled around helplessly but Hermione didn't care. She spoke carefully, making sure to spit a lot on his face.

"If I ever, _ever_, see you again," she spoke in a murderous tone. The man suddenly looked very small and scared. "I will _kill_ you. And if you don't think I'm capable, then why don't you test me again?" her voice got quieter, and her eyes were narrowed. "Now, get your stupid butt out of my face or I might reconsider."

The man nodded and quickly scampered away, not even glancing at his friends. Hermione felt someone's hand on her arm. Tim was examining the part where she had accidently been cut when she had attempted to dodge. Huh, so she clearly wasn't in the same shape that she was before. She would have to start training again sometime soon. Not everyone in the world were as weak as these four men, and she never knew when someone might catch her off guard.

"I'm fine," She reassured him, though the look on his face showed he didn't quite believe her. "This is just a little cut. I can take a little blood. It's no big deal. I'll just get some band-aids and I'll be-"

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned around to see Abraxas standing there, Riddle next to them. She must've looked weird to them with her sunglasses, though Abraxas's eyes were straying to the unconscious three people lying on the floor.

Riddle, however, was staring at Tim. Hermione was quite shocked to see a murderous look cross over his face, but she was even more shocked to hear the next words come out of Riddle's mouth. "We meet again," Riddle said, his lips curling into a nasty smirk, one that Hermione had only seen once. Riddle normally kept his composed façade, even when he was angry. "_Father_."

Hermione stared as Tim removed his sun glasses. No wonder he had seen so familiar; Riddle looked almost identical to him. His hair, his cheekbones, and most of all, his eyes. Why hadn't she seen it? She had spent a whole day with this man, and it turned out he was Riddle's father? Her fighting skills were now lacking, and so were her observing skills? What was wrong with her? Why was she so blinded by her environment?

Tim, or whoever he was, Hermione didn't know anymore, sighed. "Indeed." He sounded rather sad, though not scared as she would've expected him to look under Riddle's glare. "I've been waiting for you, Tom."

_**To Be Continued…**_


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Huge does not even come close to describing the writer's block I faced with this chapter. I am still rather disappointed with it, but figured it'd be best to move on to bigger and brighter things.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

* * *

><p>Riddle sneered almost inhumanly. A look of pure hatred spread across his face, his eyes flashing tinges of red. His face seemed to pale considerably, as if all the blood had drained out of his face and flowed into his eyes. If Hermione hadn't feared Riddle before, she definitely feared him now. "Now, my <em>dear<em> father," he snarled. "Why don't we go talk in private?"

Tim seemed almost resigned, looking in the distance. However, he seemed…oddly peaceful, as if he had been expecting this. "Of course, Tom." He said, before Hermione could interrupt. She stared at him; didn't he know how dangerous Riddle was? He shouldn't know about magic of course; he was a muggle. But if his wife was a witch, then he should know about it to some degree. Had he never see Tom cast a curse before? Being alone with him while Riddle was angry was as good as a death wish, wizard or not.

"B-but Tim!" Hermione found her voice and protested weakly. Abraxas glanced over to her sharply, as if telling her to be quiet. Hermione barely glanced at him; she knew that he was still angry at her for her killing curse stunt on the train, and she was sure that anything she did, Abraxas would frown upon it. Riddle, however, paid her no mind and kept his eyes trained on his father. The two of them locked eyes, and though they looked quite similar, Hermione could pick out the differences. Tim's posture more relaxed, though how he could be relaxed at a time like this, Hermione didn't know. Riddle was glaring, his whole body tense and alert. His hand was fingering his wand, and Hermione glanced down at it nervously.

"Shh, Hermione. It's alright." He patted her shoulder, and Riddle's eyes finally strayed away from his father's eyes and down to the hand that connected her to Tim. His anger flared even more, if possible. Why would he care? It wasn't him being touched. "Tom, I will come with you, but before that, may I speak to Hermione in private?"

A look of shock crossed Riddle's face, and he blinked a couple of times, before he said firmly, "No."

Hermione scowled at him. Tim was supposed to be Riddle's father. Where did Riddle get off ordering him around like that? "I don't care what you say, Riddle. Tim and I are going to talk, and you can't stop me."

Riddle clearly thought that he could, but he came to the conclusion that dueling her would take up his precious time and energy. Not to mention it would make a mess in the back alley, and there was a highly probable chance he would be caught. He glared full heartedly at the two of them, but didn't make any move to stop them as Hermione dragged Tim away.

However, as soon as they were out of earshot from the other two, Hermione found out that she had nothing to say. After the frightening presence of Riddle was no longer looming over them, Hermione's heart beat calmed. The two of them stood awkwardly, a couple feet between them, neither meeting the other's eyes. Hermione crossed her arms and huffed out. The anger that she had felt when she found out she had been deceived by Tim was now returning.

"You're mad at me." It was a statement, not a question, and Tim had spoken it so quietly that Hermione wasn't sure if she had imagined it or not. He stared down the path which they had come from. It had seemed like hours ago; in reality, it had only been ten minutes. Ten minutes ago, she had been the most carefree she had been in years, forgetting about all her worries. Now, they all came crashing down on her.

"What's your name?" Hermione said, as if Tim had never spoken at all.

"Tom Riddle."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Hermione, I know I haven't been completely truthful to you…"

Hermione wanted to yell at him for lying to her, but that would make her a hypocrite, wouldn't it? She was the master of keeping secrets, of lying to people. She wasn't in the position to lecture anyone, not Tim, not Riddle, not nobody. She remained silent.

"My name is really Tom Riddle, and other Tom Riddle is indeed my son," Tim said softly. "The reason I gave you a fake name was because I recognized you."

"Recognized me?" Hermione felt fear rising up inside of her. Recognized her from what? Did he know about her mission? Did he find about her father? So many choices, not one of them good.

"That you were magical, of course. I've been around magic for such a long time, I know what a magical person's aura feels like." Here, he slightly frowned at her. "Yours is exceptionally strong, though. The only other person who I've ever felt it so quickly was with Tom."

_Great. Riddle and I are alike._

"I had to make up a name. There aren't too many magical folks that ever come to Little Hangleton, and the fact that someone as strong as you was here meant that Tom probably was as well. And you know Tom; wherever he goes, people will know him."

_Ah, so now I'm a Riddle indicator. _Tim stared at her, as if expecting to get a reaction. She gave him none, and met his gaze evenly. He eventually looked away, sighing. What did he expect? For her to suddenly change her mind and hug him?

"That's why I had to change my name," Tim continued, though. "I knew you would most definitely recognize me if I said my name was Tom. To top it off, I even look like him. Or he looks like me. I don't suppose it matters. I just knew, when I saw you, that I had to gain your trust."

"Gain my trust?" Hermione was so bewildered, she forgot to sound angry.

"Yes," Tim sighed. "If you hadn't noticed, Tom is a bit…troubled."

_Troubled? Riddle?_ _The same Riddle that almost killed me over a ring? The guy who's trying to make my life worse than it already is? _"Troubled would be an understatement," Hermione said finally.

"Tom hasn't had enough people care about him in his life," Tim said quietly.

"So you're saying that because he isn't cared about, he turned out troubled?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes. "I didn't come here to tell you to make excuses for Tom, Tim. I'm sure they're other reasons. He has people who care about him-"

"Of course there's other reasons," Tim replied smoothly. "But one of the biggest ones is the fact that Tom has no friends. He has followers, of course, and then there's the people he pretends to befriend until they serve their uses. But Tom has no real friend, nor does he have any family members that care about him. Essentially, Tom is alone in the world."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, but didn't argue. She waited for him to continue. She didn't see what was the point of his story. Was he trying to make her feel bad for Riddle? _Well, tough luck_. She wasn't going to pity Riddle anytime soon.

"I made the mistake of pushing him away," Tim admitted. "The last time I saw him was his second year in school. Professor Dumbledore made him came back and visit me, something he was displeased about. He already had suspicions that I was not the wizard that he thought I was, and that I was, in reality, a muggle. He was always smarter than me, so he must've gotten his intellectual genes from his mom. He came all the way down to Little Hangleton, yet I refused to open the door. I didn't even hear him out. I just ignored him." Tim looked away, embarrassed. "This was before he turned as evil as he is now."

"The door?" Hermione replied weakly. She didn't know where Tim was going with this.

"Yes, I yelled at him, but I didn't even have the decency to open the door and face him man to man. Maybe I was afraid about the splitting image of myself that I would see. I knew he looked like me, though he had no idea what I looked like. Maybe I didn't want to see how Tom had become. Maybe I was afraid of magic, and the role it played in my life. Nevertheless, I feel as if I pushed Tom over the edge. I was the only true family member he had, and I pushed him away."

Hermione remained silent.

"After that time, Professor Dumbledore never made him come again, so I never saw Tom until today. However," Tim paused slightly. "I have been getting news about Tom. Professor Dumbledore decided that even though I was a muggle, Tom was a special case, and he needed help. Otherwise, he most definitely would've erased my memory. He tried to persuade me by sending me news about Tom's life to take him back. And it was true; Tom was getting progressively worse. Even _I _could see it. However, any time I thought about taking him back, I thought of Merope. And that thought always pushed me to refuse."

"Merope?" Hermione inquired curiously.

"She's my wife, and Tom's mom." Tim sighed. "Long story short, she fed me love potion and made me run away with her. She had decided that after a few years, I was genuinely in love with her, and decided to stop giving me love potion. I am a very horrible person, Hermione." Tim's voice cracked. "I am very violent. When I found out that I had been manipulated, been cheated on, I forced her to leave. If Merope stayed, I most likely would've killed her. That wasn't the worse part. She was pregnant at the time, with Tom."

Hermione gasped softly, but Tim either didn't hear her or decided to ignore her.

"She died as soon as she gave birth to him, leaving Tom at an orphanage. The reason I didn't take him back then or any of the other chances that I had was because I was afraid of magic. I didn't want any reminder of what I had done to Merope in my life. I was a coward. I was running away, trying to live a normal life. Professor Dumbledore offered to erase my memory, but I was too prideful to forget. So I lived on, the guilt slowly digging its way into my life. And by the time I really realized what I had done, Tom was beyond help.

"I don't know how well you know Tom, but he likes to manipulate people. He's a very cunning boy with a lot of trick up his sleeves. If you don't play him right, he'll backstab you. He uses people, builds a fortress around himself, and then dumps them. That's just the way Tom works. He's smart, and so far, he hasn't met anyone who's his competitor."

Hermione couldn't resist asking, "I didn't know Tom had such a background before, and I start to understand why he is what he is right now, but I don't understand why you're telling this to me. Shouldn't you be telling Riddle this?"

Tim ignored her and looked far away into the distance. "You must know that I'm going to die, right?"

Hermione was shocked, and for a few moments, she wasn't sure she heard Tim right. "You're going to die? Are you sick? Do you need help?" Tim said nothing in response, instead, just stared dreamily into space. The silence made her panic. "Tim, please tell me what's wrong. Is there anything I can do? Oh, Merlin, should I get a doctor?"

"Merlin. That's a funny word. It must be wizard language, isn't it? I've never heard Professor Dumbledore say it before, but then again, I've never heard him say 'God' either." Tim finally turned back to her, and he chuckled. "You must don't know Tom as well as I thought you did," he mused quietly, though Hermione wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to her. "Tom doesn't like people. He hates everyone on various degrees. However, to make him enraged is a very difficult thing to do. Tom is all about controlling his emotions. If he's enraged, then you might as well be dead."

"What?" Hermione's voice raised several octaves. "Are you saying that as soon as you go back, Riddle's going to _murder _you?"

"Why not?" Tim looked her straight in the eye. "Even if you don't know him well, you should know he's perfectly capable of doing that, especially if he has his wand."

"T-then," Hermione stuttered, her brain going into panic mode. She couldn't think clearly. "You can't go back there! You have to run away, and-"

"Now, Hermione," Tim sighed, and Hermione closed her mouth, her worried expression still etched on her face. "I have done enough running for a lifetime. I was prepared, when I saw you walking with Tom today, that it was my last day. There was only one reason why Tom would visit Little Hangleton, and that would be me."

"You can't just die!" Hermione panicked. "You have to tell someone. The police, Professor Dumbledore, someone-"

"You know how Tom is. Do you honestly think he can be caught by a muggle police?" He had a point there. "As for Professor Dumbledore goes, he has lost his faith in Tom a long time ago, and would like nothing more than to see Tom behind the bars. He thinks Tom is a lost cause. _I _thought Tom was a lost cause. But I believe all he needs is a second chance."

"_I _don't think he deserves a second chance."

"Don't you get it, Hermione?" Tim asked gently. "I _want_ Tom to curse me. I want him to get rid of his anger of his muggle father. He's been building up too much hate over the years. I'm hoping that it will help him relieve some of his anger."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Well, I won't be here to see that, won't I?"

Hermione gulped, but before she could say anything, Tim sighed and said, "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. It's not that bad. And I got to meet you today, didn't I? I had loads of fun. Let's talk about today."

"What?" Hermione all but screeched. "N-no! I want to talk about what's going to happen to you when you get back-"

"Hermione." Tim responded warningly.

There was so many things Hermione wanted to say, to protest against, but the look on Tim's face stopped her. She said weakly, "So, are you the person who separated me from Tom in the crowd?"

Tim's lips quirked up. "I was wondering when you'd ask that. Yes, I did." He didn't elaborate, and Hermione was too shocked and panicked to question him further. She _had_ been right; it wasn't possible to get lost so quickly unless it was set up by someone.

"I decided to befriend you," Tim continued. "I had heard about Tom monthly from Professor Dumbledore, of course, but I wanted to see how he was doing with his companions. You were staring at the bookstore dreamily, so I decided you would be the easiest to lure away. Not to mention, I always love someone who's well educated."

"Riddle and I are not companions," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Acquaintances, better?" Tim said smoothly. "I expected you to be a suck up snobby brat like all of his other followers. After all, even as I tried to stay out of the magic world, I was drawn into it repeatedly, and it dawned me after awhile that I would never be able to escape it and live the normal life I yearned so much for. I know what purebloods are like, and I thought you were one of them." Tim cast her a sideways glance. "You're not even a pureblood, are you?"

Hermione shook her head.

Tim laughed, though Hermione couldn't see what was amusing about the situation. "I talked to you, and got to know you a bit. I discovered that you weren't at all like I expected, and you were nothing like Tom at all. You were the exact opposite."

_Riddle and I are more similar than you think_. "I-I'm actually the slave." Hermione blurted out, unsure why she was telling Tim this. "I'm the slave at the Malfoy Manor, which he happened to come by. That is why we're not alike-"

Tim simply looked at her, amused. "Does it matter your social status?" He asked quietly. "The world is too focused on wealth and power now. Slave or not, Tom asked you to accompany him, didn't he?"

"More like ordered," she answered truthfully. "And I'm sure it's only because he wants to find out about my life. I haven't been telling him much, and it's annoying him." She smirked slightly at the memory of his frustrated interrogations that yielded no results.

"I'm sure it is," Tim smiled slightly. "Tom likes knowing the answers to everything, and you're a mystery. You said you were a slave, right? Well, I haven't had a slave, but I don't think normal slaves can take out four grown men single handedly." Hermione blushed slightly. "And maybe he wanted to find out more about you, but he would _never_ ask or order someone to go on a trip as important as this one just to find out about their background. In fact," Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, since you're a girl, if he wanted information out of you, he would've just slept with you. Though I suppose if you were a boy and he wanted it bad enough, he would sleep with you too."

Hermione was mortified. "I would _never_ sleep with Riddle!" She declared.

Tim chuckled. "My point is, Tom has other means of getting information, and this certainly is not his usual way. Is there anything you can think of that makes you different than other people?"

_I can think of one pretty major thing, but I can't tell you about that._ "Abraxas," she said finally. "The blonde you saw him with is Abraxas. He's the youngest son at the Malfoy Manor, which is where I work. He and I, we sort of became friends over the last week or so."

"I thought so," Tim said, and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "The way he looks as you clearly shows that you and him were more than slave and master. However, out of curiosity, his eyes were guarded, especially when you looked at him. Any idea why?"

Hermione looked away. "I almost killed him on the train."

The look Tim gave her indicated that he thought she was joking. "Abraxas is one of Tom's followers that has the closest shot at being a 'friend' to Riddle. That was why I was not surprised when he came with Tom here. But seeing how you managed to win Abraxas's friendship, I am guessing that Tom, deep down, figures that if you can understand Abraxas, you can also understand his situation. Tom may be a very evil person, I'm not denying it, but he is also someone who yearns to be loved, to be wanted, to be understood."

Hermione had never thought of it that way. "Riddle wants to be loved?" She almost snorted at the absurdity of the statement. "I think you're overestimating Riddle," she said. "Maybe he's just sadistic and wants to go far away from the Ministry of Magic to take advantage of me."

Tim shrugged, his lips quirking slightly. "Maybe, but I told you this for one main reason; for once in my life, I agree with Tom." He held his hand up when she tried to interrupt, and she fell silent. "I want you to get to know him better, to understand him better, to break down the walls he's placed around himself. I hate magic, Hermione. Understand that, because I truly do. But I love Tom. Those are two things that I thought of as different, when they were, in reality, the same. Tom's magic is a part of him. I realized that too late. I want you to give him his second chance, but don't mess it up like I did."

Hermione's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "You want me to _befriend_ Riddle?" she asked incredulously.

"No, no. I don't think it's possible to become Tom's friend." Tim chuckled. "I just want you to understand him a little, look at things from his side. No one has ever done that before. He's always been pushed away before he had a chance to explain." Tim closed his eyes. "I'm not asking you to become his girlfriend, or even a companion. All I ask is if the chance ever appears, please take the time to listen to him, no matter how absurd his argument is. He needs someone in his life to be his pillar, and I've failed him. I can only hope that someone will do that same." He looked at her gently and whispered, "A father wants what's best for his child."

Hermione felt a lump in her throat, but felt herself nodding. The guilty and sad look on Tim's face was what had gotten her to agree. He seemed to be internally weeping, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace. He looked like a little child who had broken someone else's toy. Maybe he had broken Riddle, but Riddle had also broken himself as well. It wasn't Tim's fault.

"Promise me,"

Hermione closed her eyes. _Say no_, her mind chanted at her. _Say no, say no!_ _Father told you not to get emotionally tangled up. _"I promise."

"Thank you," Tim whispered softly. "And now that we've talked about Tom for awhile, I would like to say thank you for making this day worth living for me. I was considering ending my own life when I saw Tom today, just to keep Tom from executing one more murder, but I'm glad I didn't. Please know that it was a pleasure meeting you today, and I wouldn't change anything if I could go back."

Tears dripped down Hermione's face; she had forgotten about his dilemma for the past few minutes. It sounded so much like a goodbye. "You're not going to die," she said. "I won't let Tom curse you. I-I'll go negotiate with him. I'm sure he'll understand-"

"He won't," Tim said gently. "You'll only get hurt. And besides, I want this. Tom needs to be rid of me so he'll finally move on past his hatred of me to something better. I need to repay the debt of the lives I took. I killed Merope, and I might as well have killed Tom. I killed all that was good in him, and what better way to repay him by letting him kill me?"

"That's not true," Hermione argued. "There's a lot of good in you. It was an accident. You were confused. Everyone would be in your case. You reacted better than I would've in your situation! You had just been under the effects of love potion for so many years, and you suddenly had a wife and a child. It is expected." Hermione noticed that she now sounded as if she were pleading and begging. She didn't care. "It's not your fault, Tim."

"I appreciate it, Hermione, but you must know that there's no changing the past. What is done is done. I don't have any say on that. What I do have a say on is the future, and I've decided a long time ago that this was the moment where I finally rid myself of my cowardice. I'm not going to run away from this anymore, and nothing you say or do will stop me." He paused. "Life is testing me right now, and I don't plan on failing it."

_I could stop you by force_, Hermione thought to herself. _I could knock you and out and lock you in a far away room so Riddle will never find you._ However, she couldn't do that. It was Tim's own decision to make, and she could see that he was determined to do so. He had obviously planned this for awhile. "I'm so sorry this had to happen," she blinked away the tears, but they fell anyways. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this."

"I don't deserve your kind words," Tim said. "As much as it looks like, Tom's not the bad guy here. I am. He is simply a victim of my cruelness. And now, he has come to finish me off. Isn't that what happens in movies? Bad guys must die, don't they?"

"You're not a bad guy," Hermione's voice barely came out as more than a squeak.

Tim laughed. "I need to say one last thing. Though we only met for a day or so, I feel like you're the daughter I never had. I'm sure that if we had more time, I would've grown on you, and tried to be a better parent than I was to Tom. However, since we don't have any more time, I will just ask that you keep your promise about Tom, and you'll someday find the strength to forgive this old man."

"You were like my father too. There's nothing to forgive," Hermione couldn't help, but start to cry. She embraced him, not caring that she had just known him for one day. He would be gone all too soon, just because of his stupid plan of giving Riddle a second chance. Why did he have to pay with his life to give a second chance to someone who didn't deserve it? Tim wrapped his arms around her gently, like a father hugging his child. Her father never hugged her. Her father never _touched_ her, except for an occasional slap. "But, I forgive you for everything. Everything that you did, and everything that you didn't."

"Thank you. And Hermione? Please don't tell Tom about this."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask why, but someone cleared their throat irritably behind them. Hermione lifted her tear stained face to see Riddle and Abraxas standing there. Riddle's face was devoid of any emotion, and if he was surprised to see his father and Hermione hugging, he didn't show it. His face was so composed, that Hermione would've never guessed what he was about to do if she hadn't been forewarned. Abraxas, however, openly gaped, his blue eyes wide and startled.

"Father," Riddle said emotionlessly. "It's time to go."

Tim detangled himself from Hermione's grasp and stepped towards his son. "Yes, it's time to end this." He looked back towards Hermione and smiled at her one last time. "Don't forget the promise."

The two of them were gone before Hermione could respond, and she sank to the ground, unable to control her trembling and shaking. She felt someone's hand—Abraxas's-patting her shoulder awkwardly, but she barely noticed. He was gone. Tim was gone. Forever. Off the face of the planet. Her dream dad had appeared and vanished before her eyes. Her sobbing grew louder, and she replayed Tim's words in her brain over and over again.

She would never forget the promise.

ஐ

The door opened quietly and a person stepped into her room. Hermione lay on the bed, paying it no mind. She was thinking about her day, and the events that had happened. From the train ride to Frankie's to the four men in the back alley. It had started off pretty bad, and then brightened considerably, then ended on the worst possible note.

Hermione had barely spoken to Riddle on the way home, answering in monosyllables. Riddle himself was deep in thought. What was he thinking about? How to murder another person who had angered him? And she had thought that he was alright, that he wasn't in any way like her father. How very wrong she was. She would _never_ trust him ever again. Hermione felt disgusted that she had let herself be affected by him. She had felt so happy when he patted her head. Now, Hermione knew she was just delusional, like Lavender. Riddle couldn't care about anyone, no matter how many chances he got. She should just kill him now, before he hurt anyone else. All it took was for her to break into his bedroom while he was sleeping, and then a simple Avada Kedvra. Then she could just vanish without a trace. What could go wrong?

The answer was simple. She had broken her father's number one rule: do not get affected by other people. If she successfully killed Riddle, Harry and Lavender would become immediate suspects. While her father wouldn't think twice about it, Hermione herself had a heart. She cared about both of them. She couldn't just leave them behind, being blamed about the crimes they did not do. And then, on top of that, she didn't want to leave Abraxas.

Abraxas, she didn't know what he was thinking. While he seemed to forgive her killing stunt earlier, and he had embraced her when she had fell apart in the back alley, he had sat very far away from her, avoiding eye contact. He hadn't spoken to her at all either. Nothing. When she reached out to open the door and accidently brushed against his arm, he flinched and moved away.

_This is how it is, is it?_ Hermione thought angrily to herself. _My supposed 'friend' will never talk to me again, and his friend turns out to be a murderer. And the one person who hasn't turned on me yet is dead._

She desperately needed Abraxas's cheery mood at a time like this, but he didn't volunteer and Hermione didn't ask. Her mood plummeted whenever she met his gaze, and his familiar smirk didn't appear. As if Riddle wasn't hard enough to deal with already, she had to get a moody Abraxas.

However, even though he wasn't talking, Abraxas just being there provided a sense of safety for her. While Riddle could still attack her while Abraxas was in the same compartment, she felt better when Abraxas was there. When he went to go to the bathroom, Hermione scuttled to follow him. Riddle had cast her a glance, but seemed to be too absorbed in his thoughts to thoroughly process it. All the better. She didn't want him to question her. There was no way she was going to admit being scared of him, but she couldn't think of any other excuse either.

But the main thing that plagued Hermione's mind was the promise she made with Tim. How could she look at Riddle's view of things, if she wanted nothing more than to murder him? She couldn't bear his presence, much less talk to him in a civilized conversation. She couldn't possibly understand his mind, as much as she could understand her father's. They were both murderers and she didn't feel the slightest bit of pity for them. She had no interest in learning the sick ways of killers.

But then, there was the fact that she_ had_ promised Tim. And she knew that wherever Tim was, a better place, that he would be angry if she didn't fulfill her promise. It _had _been a rather important promise. She didn't want to let him down, and she didn't want to let herself down. But still, Riddle was Riddle…

"Hey," It was Harry, and he closed the door softly. He sat down on the edge of her bed, giving her her personal space. The bed sagged slightly under his weight. Hermione noted absentmindedly that the black circles under his eyes had darkened.

"Hey Harry." Hermione didn't bother to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretended to look disinterested, Harry would go away. She was not in the mood to talk, and she was afraid that she was going to say something rude to him that she would later come to regret. She was never pleasant to talk to when she was irritated.

Harry obviously didn't pick up on her subtle hint, or chose to ignore it. "When did you come back?" he asked gently. She hadn't realized she had missed his brotherly personality, even if she had only been away for fifteen hours. "I didn't see you come in."

"I was trying not to be noticed," Hermione admitted. It was true; after the long, awkward train ride, Hermione had ran away from the two and returned to the Manor before them. She had been planning to let herself in through the front door, but she spotted Gabriel's blonde hair and Walburga's frizzy black hair on the path that lead to the front door. There was no way she was going anywhere near there.

She had snuck down to the cellar and found her way back to the servant's quarters from there. She hadn't run into anyone, thank Merlin, but she was hoping to see Lavender. She wanted to apologize for her actions. Now that she now found out what a manipulative, evil bastard Riddle was, she took it her own shoulders to make sure Lavender was safe, even if it would make the girl hate her even more.

Harry was silent for a few moments, and then said, "I missed you. It wasn't the same without you here. I talked to Lavender a few times, but I was mostly on my own. That is, of course, if you don't count Gabriel's and Walburga's presence." Harry made a face. "The two of them have decided a bedroom isn't enough, and have expanded it to nearly the whole house. It's gross, when you're walking along, humming your own tune, and then trip over two bodies. And then to wrap it up, you get a healthy dose of cursing."

Hermione giggled, and then grew serious again. "How's Lavender holding up?" she asked quietly.

Harry raked his hand through his hair. "She's as well as she can be," he admitted. "She's been running around the house, whistling, but I heard her crying earlier in the bathroom. I went to talk to her, and, er-" Harry looked at her sheepishly. "I think you should go talk to her."

Hermione stared at him. "Me? Why should I go talk to her?"

"She's really sorry about what she did to you." Harry said. "Though she's going slightly over the top with it. Did you know she wrote down a very long apology note, and went berserk when I accidently spilled my coffee on it? It was just a little stain, but she threw a fit and rewrote the whole thing."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Accidently?" She inquired teasingly. It reminded her of when Nick would make fun of her for being so OCD. She hated wrinkles on papers, especially papers that she spent so long working on. Nick hadn't understood the power of a clean piece of paper. Of course he wouldn't; his was always crumpled up in a ball.

"It _was _accidental," Harry protested, grinning. "But my point is, she rewrote it a lot of times, and spent a lot of effort on it. At least, listen to her side of the story. I'm not telling you that you have to forgive her, but at least let her know that her effort wasn't in vain."

Hermione's smile slid off her face. That sounded so much like what Tim had said. "Harry?" she said quietly, and her friend turned to face her. "What if someone you know has done a very bad thing, and you hate them, yet you made a promise to someone to consider it from their point of view and give them a second chance?"

Harry frowned. "This has nothing to do with Lavender, right?"

Hermione shook her head. Lavender was already forgiven in her mind; she would just have to go find the girl later and make it up with her. It seemed so small and petty, their fight, and Hermione had bigger things to worry about.

"Well," Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully. "It's not as if they're asking you to befriend that person," _That's exactly what Tim said. _"Considering it from their point of view isn't that bad. That's what you're supposed to do anyways; you're supposed to look at stuff from their point of view before hating them. Seems to me that you've skipped that step though," Harry grinned at her sheepishly. "Rather impatient of you."

"No, Harry, you don't understand," Hermione struggled slightly. She had no idea how he was going to react to this. "What if it was something you couldn't just forgive and forget? What if…" she paused. "What if it was a murder?"

Harry's eyes grew dark and cold. "There is no excuse for murder," he muttered darkly, though Hermione wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to her. "That is the worse crime that one could possibly commit."

"So," Hermione tried to continue, noting the very evil look on Harry's face. If looks could kill, the whole room would be dead. His fists were clenched tightly. She must've triggered some sort of memory. She wanted to comfort him, yet she wanted his opinion at the same time. "You're saying that I shouldn't lessen my hate?"

"Oh, you definitely should _not_ do that," Harry calmed himself down, though his teeth were still clenched. "Of course, if it's someone who's like your best friend, you should consider their point of view. There must be some reason that they did what they did. No one just kills a person for fun, aside for insane people. And if you hadn't noticed your best friend is insane, then there's something wrong with you as well."

_Yes. Riddle and I are best friends. _Hermione thought sarcastically. "And what if that person isn't your best friend, or even a friend? Maybe, an acquaintance that you were starting to warm up to?"

Harry looked at her. "Is this acquaintance crazy?"

Hermione thought for awhile. She didn't know much about Riddle, did she? She didn't think he was crazy, but then again, she didn't think that he would actually murder someone. Then there was the conflict that Tim had told her about Riddle's background. While it wasn't a good enough reason to drive someone into murder, at least Riddle wasn't coming out of nowhere. Maybe he just had anger controlling issues. Or maybe his habit could be killing people. Hermione didn't know. For the sake of the argument, she shook her head.

"Then, like I said before, there must be something," Harry replied easily. "There must be some sort of tragic past that caused them to act the way they did. I'm not saying it's justifiable, of course, but at least they are not beyond help. You could help them, by lending an ear. It's not too hard."

"I agree with what you're saying," Hermione said slowly. "But what if the 'tragic past' isn't enough reason? I don't think that the tragic past was tragic enough to have driven them into murder though."

"Everyone thinks differently," Harry said simply. "What you might think is not tragic enough might be different for me. Speaking of which, I've been curious for awhile now. Can you tell me what the situation is? I can tell you more if I know the context."

Hermione didn't feel it was her place to go sharing stories about Riddle, no matter how evil he was, but she was very curious about Harry's response. Riddle didn't deserve her kindness, anyways. She wouldn't mention his name, so at least his identity would be safe. Hermione nodded and said, "So, once upon a time, there was a kid. He was rejected by his dad, and called a freak and everything just because he had magic. Also, the dad had kicked out his mom when she was pregnant with him." Hermione winced. She was making it seem like Tim was the bad guy. "So he developed hatred over the years, and then went back to where his dad lived and murdered him."

Harry was silent for awhile. "So, you're asking me about the kid, right? Not the dad?"

"No, not the dad," Hermione replied sadly. She could never, ever look at things from Tim's perspective ever again, even if she wanted to. She would never need to give Tim a second chance. She believed that even though he had committed some ugly acts in the past, at least he had learned and changed. _Tim. I will never see him again._ It was a sad thought, and Hermione quickly pushed it out of her head. She could cry herself to sleep later; there was no need to start bawling in front of Harry.

"Sounds to me," Harry scratched the back of his head. "Like the kid has it pretty rough as well. It seems like all he wanted was to be loved by his family. Of course, murder is not the option; it is _never_ the option. Though, I can see why he did it." Harry shrugged. "Sometimes you just want to free yourself from the pain." He cast a sideways look at her. "Did he get arrested?"

"No," Hermione replied. "I was the only one who knows, and I haven't reported him. It was…er…his dad's request. He wanted to give his son a second chance."

Harry looked surprised. "See, just because you start out as the bad guy doesn't mean that you can't turn out good," he commented. "His dad can change, so why can't the kid change? I think, in this case, you go talk to him as much as possible. He sounds like he needs as much help as he can get."

"You want me to be his therapist?"

Harry laughed. "You'd make a terrible one," he answered truthfully, and Hermione huffed. "No, I'm asking you to just make him feel comfortable. Not befriend him, unless you want to. Just make him feel like there's no need to kill another human being just to relent his anger. Calm him down a bit. You never know, Hermione, you could be saving another's life."

"I know, but, it's hard," Hermione admitted. "Every time I go near him now, all I want to do is murder him myself. I might be saving another's life, but I might be taking _his_. That's how much I hate him now."

Harry leaned over and pulled her into an embrace. "Nothing in life is easy," he told her. "It seems like his dad was laying a rather big job on you. It shows how much he believes you can do it. I'm sure he wants you to do it, but won't get mad at you if you can't."

"He's _dead_, Harry." She stared at him pointedly. "Dead people can't get mad at me, so I don't need to worry about that."

"Fine, I'll rephrase that," Harry grumbled. "You're worried about disappointing him, right? From the way I see it, you don't want to do it, but you feel like you have to." Hermione nodded slowly. "It's really up to you, Hermione. No one can make you choose what you do. But think about it. That kid need someone to lean on. You could be that person. It seems like you already know more about him than the average person." He paused.

"I don't," Hermione muttered. "Trust me, I know nothing at all."

Harry grinned, standing up. "Think about it," he told her. "Everyone can change, they just need to find the right motivation to. Speaking of which, I am in the process of changing as well." Harry glanced at his watch. "It's rather late, so I'm going to be heading to bed early for once. I'll see you in the morning. Should you decide to go confront the kid, don't stay out too late." He waved at her, and the winked evilly. "Have fun with Riddle."

He left before she could throw whatever was in reaching distance at him. Hermione was left wondering how he knew right away who she had been talking about, and more importantly, what to do with her conflict with Riddle.

_Does Riddle deserve a second chance?_

The answer was obviously a no. But would she give him a second chance? She would try; not only for Tim's sake, but for Riddle's as well. She would try to talk to him. There was no harm in that, was there? She would see how things progressed from there.

ஐ

He had finally done it. After so many years of resentment, he had finally killed his pathetic excuse for a father. The old codger had underestimated him, letting him keep his wand and leaving his 'father' unprotected. Or maybe the old codger had wanted his father to die as well. Riddle's lips curled up into a snarl.

It had gone perfectly. His father had followed him back into his house, where Riddle pointed at something at the floor. His father had seen his parent's bodies, twisted at weird angles, their eyes open but not seeing. He had turned back to Riddle in shock, only to meet the killing curse head on. He would never know what hit him, and the police would never be able to trace it back to him. He had gone back to alter Morfin's memories so that he would believe he was the murderer. He was careful about not leaving any clues.

When he had seen his father touching Granger, he had felt his anger flare. Granger was _his_ conquest, and he hated to share. No one would touch her ever again, not unless they wanted to face the wrath of Tom Riddle. Granger was off-limits; he had a hard enough time controlling his temper when Abraxas touched her. If every male she met did as well, he would flip.

As for Granger, she added another item onto his list of mysteries to solve. He had seen the way she handled the mudbloods like they were nothing. She didn't even use her wand! If it was him, he would've killed them all. It prevented witnesses, and required almost no effort. But no, Granger went and knocked all of them out by hand. While Riddle thought she was extremely stupid, his interest in her grew.

She was definitely coming to Hogwarts with him. Nothing anyone said or could do would change that fact.

Unfortunately, by the time he stopped replaying the scene in his head where his father fell, dead, Granger had already rushed back into the Manor and buried herself in the servants chambers. No matter how curious he was about her, there was no way he was going down to filth. He had followed Abraxas to his room, listening to the boy talk endlessly about stuff he didn't bother to understand. He had eventually excused himself as politely as he could, as his parents were in the room right below them, and Abraxas, remembering who he was talking to, paled considerably and immediately shut up. He would deal with him later.

On his way back to his room, he saw the Lavender girl picking up some dirty laundry in Gabriel's room. She had looked up when Riddle passed by her, but to his surprise, her eyes hardened and she looked away. There was no longing in her eyes anymore. What was with her? Just because he insulted her a little, and now she was giving him the cold shoulder? Riddle didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because, in his mind, the only one that he would bother to chase was Granger. All the other girls were supposed to bow down to him.

As he passed by her, he made sure to brush his arm against her back. She had jumped, and Riddle smirked, moving away. Any second, and she would be back, lusting after him. However, he soon realized, irritated, that it had just the opposite effect on her. She had turned around, glaring at him, and then dusted off her back. Riddle almost flipped when he saw that gesture; how _dare_ she, like his touch contaminated _her_. He was a wizard! She was nothing but a slave, not better than the gum below his shoes. Smirking slightly at that thought, he walked away from her. He didn't need to impress her. If she didn't like him, it was her loss. He had gotten her tiara, and that's all he needed. He didn't need her love; in fact, he was quite glad to have gotten rid of it.

Still, it irked him to no end. Did that mean his charms were slipping? He would have to perfect them before he went back to Hogwarts. It wouldn't do if not everyone was positively smitten with him. He was going to be a Prefect this year as well, and it would be easier to bend the rules if everyone was willing to obey him.

Riddle looked around. He had wandered to the garden, one of the only places where one could be free from the racket that Gabriel and Walburga were making. It was a nice garden, but not as good as Hogwart's had been. He would always leave the castle and wander around. The Slytherin common room was always nosy with first years, and any classroom in the castle could be easily detected by the old codger. He didn't want to be interrupted while deep in thought. Strike that, he was _furious_ when he was interrupted while thinking. Riddle thought of the last boy who had dared to disturb him. He ended up with a bloody nose and two broken bones in his right arm. Dumbledore had been furious, but then again, he had no proof, as always. The boy had mysteriously lost his memories of the incident, and Riddle had never been more proud of his wand work.

Riddle sat on one of the benches and looked up at the sky. The day had been a tiring one, but successful at that. He felt calmer now, a mood he knew wouldn't last, but he enjoyed it when he could feel peaceful. For a few moments, he could almost delude himself into thinking he wasn't a freak, and that he fit in with everyone. Reality usually came crashing down later, but there were a few moments that Riddle himself was just…another human boy.

That thought scared him, yet enthralled him at the same time. He was by no means just another human. He was so much more than that. However, he hated being the outlier. He hated how other people used to look at him like he was below them. Well, he had taken care of _their _smirks quite quickly, and now no one else would ever look down on him.

What was there to do when he got back to Hogwarts? He had gotten the real ring from his uncle, who would be well on his way to Azkaban as soon as he delivered his 'confession' to the Aurors, the tiara and the diary. Abraxas had gone to secure the latter for him over the break. He had been awarded by being invited to come to Little Hangleton with him. He knew that Abraxas wanted to get as close to him as possible, and while that thought was revolting, Riddle found himself continuously asking Abraxas to tag along. It also helped that Abraxas was a devoted follower and always set the example for his other Knights. If only everyone was as obedient as Abraxas was.

He also had to pay a visit to _dear_ Hepzibah Smith. No one got away with lying to her like she did, feeding him with lies and giving her fake heirlooms. However, she did have her uses, and he would have fun making her squirm and give up her other precious items. He would go visit her during the Christmas break; any other time would make the old codger suspicious, and he was already watching Riddle enough as it was.

Then, of course, there was the topic of Granger. He would have fun with her. No girl had ever rejected him, and for her to keep it up for three days was a new record. It should irritate him, but instead, he found himself even more intrigued than he already was. Of course, she was still affected by him, he had seen the way she had trembled when he got close to her, but at least she wasn't as brain dead as all of his other conquests.

"Hey,"

Riddle turned around, irritated. Couldn't they tell that he was in the middle of a deep train of thought, and that he would have to start all over again? However, he caught a glimpse of the bushy hair, and his anger immediately faded.

Granger stood near the door way, her usual rags replaced with a hoodie and some jeans. Riddle wondered if the Malfoy family knew she had hidden clothes stashed in her room. He wouldn't tell anyways; he liked this outfit more, though her being almost naked in her rags was always a plus as well.

"Hello, Granger," Riddle answered smoothly, moving over on the bench to give her some room. He almost allowed a smirk to cross his face, but hid it at the last moment. Now, she would have no choice but to sit next to him, or seem rude. She could leave, of course, but she had been the one who had sought to find him, not the other way around. She wouldn't have gotten his attention if she didn't want to talk.

Granger slid into the seat next to him. Good, they were close now. Close proximity with a girl was always Riddle's strong point. Granger, however, was not looking at him, and was instead gazing dreamily around the garden. The girl was really something, though Riddle wasn't as angry as he thought he would be. She must've been the first girl who thought that the plants were more interesting than he was.

"So, what are you doing out here?"

Huh, so she wanted to make polite conversation, did she? Well, he'd play it her way. "I come out here to think," he drawled, trying to gauge her reaction. However, her head was turned, and he couldn't see her face at all. This was irritating; how was he supposed to charm the back of her head? Her bushy hair couldn't even be _tamed_, much less allured by his voice.

Riddle smirked. Granger was breaking an unspoken rule; never turn your back to a wizard. He could kill her right now, but it would be a waste. He wasn't sure he wanted to try the Imperius after her stunt on the train, and the Cruciatus curse clearly had no effect on her. Damn, the three unforgivable were out. They were his best friends too. What should he do, stun her and feed her Veritaserum? It would work, but there was no Veritaserum in the Manor, and it would take forever to brew it. Not to mention, it would look suspicious to the family, and Riddle didn't want to involve them anymore than he already had.

"What about you, Granger?" Riddle asked, trying to think of a question that would make her slip and give up something important. "Why did you decide to grace me with your lovely presence tonight?"

Granger rolled her eyes. "You should know by now your sweet talking does nothing to me, so save your energy."

Riddle smirked and grabbed her left hand. He noticed how she flinched when he touched her, but he ignored it. He would work that out of her later. It would do him no good if she was afraid of him. He leaned close to her ear and breathed slowly on her. "On contrary, Miss Granger, I think you're mistaken."

"Am not," Granger snapped at him, pulling her hand away from his and scooting over as far away from him as possible. He grinned cheekily and sat back against the chair, noting how her cheeks tinged with red.

"So, erm…" Granger tried to break the silence. Riddle had sat there, watching her, while she was fidgeting. "Are you going off to Hogwarts soon?"

"Yes," Riddle replied. "We're leaving next week."

He looked at her, slightly amused, as she twiddled her fingers nervously. She looked so much like a child that he had forgotten how strong she actually was. "What is it, Granger?" he asked, amused. "What's on your mind?"

Granger scooted around, not meeting his gaze. "Erm, if it wouldn't be too much, can you tell me a little bit about Hogwarts? Abraxas wouldn't tell me much, but I really want to know, so…" she looked up at him and did the unthinkable: she gave him a puppy face.

Riddle had seen his share of puppy faces over his life time. Most of them were from his girl conquests, though he had seen some on guys, and those were thoroughly disturbing images. They were all the same; opening their eyes up wide, puckering their lips. What they didn't know was that Riddle thought they all looked stupid. He smiled at them though, and encouraged them, and they kept coming. He didn't even know why he put up with them anymore. He just wanted them to satisfy his needs, but that didn't include putting up with their wacko faces.

However, when Granger did it, Riddle felt the unexpected urge to snog her senseless. It was _not_ the reaction he was supposed to be getting, and he covered it up with a smirk. Inside, he cursed himself; he was really losing his grip. He was supposed to be charming Granger, not the other way around. With her hair all bushed up, he couldn't even tell why he thought she was attractive. No, it was most definitely just because he wanted to find out her secrets. That was the only reason why he wanted to snog her, Riddle told himself. He wouldn't act like this if it weren't the case.

"Hogwarts? What do you want to know about Hogwarts?"

Granger's eyes shown brightly. He had never seen her look at anything like that, not to her slave buddy, not to Abraxas, not even to his father. "What about the teachers?"

The teachers were a joke. Most of them couldn't even match up to his intellectual level. "The headmaster is Armando Dippet," he told her. _He's the most naïve person you will ever meet, and I have him wrapped around my finger. _"He is the best headmaster Hogwarts could have ever had." Riddle almost threw up at the sickening sweet tone of his voice as he talked about Dippet. "Other teachers include Slughorn, Binns, Kettleburn, and others."

Granger seemed to get more and more excited. It was fine with him; the more she was intrigued with the subject, the more likely she would lower her guard. "And the subjects?" she asked happily. "What subjects can you take?"

She was really like a little kindergartener.

"There's potions," He said, amused. "And there's transfiguration and charms and care of magical creatures. There's also some courses you don't have to take, like muggle studies," he spit the last two words out with venom, but luckily, Granger was still daydreaming happily and didn't notice.

"Which class does Albus Dumbledore teach?" she asked him. "Does he teach charms? Wait, no, transfiguration. Maybe potions though…nah, I think transfiguration. Was I right?"

_There it is._

Riddle narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you know about Dumbledore?" he demanded.

Granger's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. "I-I…er…you told me?" she stuttered.

"I did not," Riddle's voice dropped lower, threatening. "I said Slughorn, Binns, Kettleburn and Dippet. Those are the only for professors I named. So I will ask again. How. Did. You. Know. About. Dumbledore?"

To his disappoint, Granger's face quickly cleared of all her fear. "Abraxas told me about him once," she answered him confidently, all traces of her stuttering gone.

Damn it. She was right. He _had_ listened to their conversation, and the old codger had popped up. However, based on her reaction, she had heard about him from another place. She wouldn't be so nervous if it was just Abraxas who told her. She got lucky this time; he would assure she would never have such an easy escape route in the future.

Granger was still staring at him, no longer trusting him. He needed to win it back. He flashed her an easy grin, which she didn't respond. "So, Granger," he drawled. "Had enough of Hogwarts yet?"

Granger shook her head. "I will never get enough of Hogwarts."

"I have an idea," he had no idea how well it was going to work out, but he could always result to force if all else failed. "Why don't you come to Hogwarts with Abraxas and me?"

Granger stared at him as though he was crazy. Well, he had expected that. "I can't possibly go!" she protested, her voice rising higher and higher. "I'm a slave, imagine what would happen if I went, I can't possibly go…" she rambled on.

"Why can't you go?" Riddle asked smoothly. "I'm sure with a little bit of persuading, the Malfoy family will let you come with us. I am…very talented in the persuading department." Granger rolled her eyes.

"I can't go, Riddle." She said firmly. "And that is that." She looked down. "You got a new ring."

Riddle raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment on her conversation change. He would confront her again about that later. "Really?" he looked down at his ring. How could she have noticed? "Why would you say that?"

"It's shinier," Granger replied automatically. "Your old one was kind of dull, and grayish colored. This one is shiny and black. I'm guessing the other one was fake?"

Damn. Even Granger could tell that it was fake. Was he really that stupid to think that Hepzibah Smith game him the real one? "I wasn't aware you were analyzing my finger," he smirked, watching delightfully as a blush spread across her face.

"I was not," she scowled at him. "But after you nearly killed me for touching it the first day, I paid some attention to it."

_He had nearly killed her?_

Oh right. The first day, she had put her little fingers on his ring, and he had felt his magic go berserk. He was simply used to people not touching him, especially slaves. They were usually warned to be extra careful around him. Still, Riddle mused to himself. He hadn't 'nearly kill her.' All he had done was slam her against some wall. If she said that, that meant that she had never seen a blown out torture before.

He would have fun showing her.

"Sorry," Riddle replied easily, though he didn't sound apologetic. "Natural reflex."

"Do you play Quidditch?" she asked immediately.

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows. She sure was one to continuously change the subject. "No…" he replied slowly. "I have much better things to do with my time."

"Like?" she pressed on.

Riddle frowned. Why was it he who was now interrogated? Wasn't he the one who was supposed to be asking questions? "Like my studies," he said finally. "There's so much more out there around magic I could learn, and I find it much more fascinating than anything else."

Granger nodded thoughtfully. "You seem like you know a lot, already, though."

Riddle stared her. What was she planning to accomplish? For him to submit to her just because she complimented him? Riddle countered, "What about you? What do you like to do?"

"I..don't know," Granger admitted sheepishly, looking away. "I don't really know what I like to do. People just tell me, and I do it. They're all orders."

Riddle was surprised. Maybe he had been wrong about her? Maybe she was just another slave before coming to the Manor as well? It didn't explain her magic casting abilities, nor the reason why she was hiding her blood status, but it would answer a few questions.

"Where are you from?" he tried. "Why did you come here?"

Granger turned to him, smirking. "Nice try, Riddle." She didn't say anything else.

Riddle sighed. Why wasn't she revealing all her secrets? She had lasted longer than all his other conquests, that was for sure, but even this game was getting slightly irritated to him. He didn't expect her to tell him everything at once, but he had expected more slips. The only things he had managed to piece together was the fact that her mother was dead, and that she was a capable witch who was surrounded by secrets. It seemed the more he questioned her, the more mysteries popped up.

"Tell me about the houses."

She had a rather adorable pout on her face, though he would never be caught dead admitting it to anyone. It simply would not do if word got out that the famous _Tom Riddle_ was turning into a mushy glob. "What did I tell you about information regarding Hogwarts, Granger?" he tsked her.

Granger rolled her eyes. "It's the houses. It's common knowledge. I know all about them, anyways. I just wanted to hear it from a real Hogwarteer."

"Hogwarteer?" Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Have you lost your marbles?"

"Fine. Person who goes to Hogwarts. Happy?"

"Very," Riddle smirked. "There's four houses. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor." He couldn't keep the contempt out of his voice at the mention of the last two houses. "Slytherin is by far the best."

"You only say that because you're in it," Granger grinned slightly.

Of course he liked Slytherin because of its belief, but then there was the fact that he was the _heir of the Slytherin_. He was related to one of the four founders, and the best of them, at that. It was unfortunate that he couldn't boast about his status to others, that would have to remain a secret, but he could show his superiority in numerous other ways. He established himself as a perfect purebelood student, and everyone worshipped him. Very few people knew of his disgusting blood status, and those who knew were too frightened of his powers to ever look down on him. Good. He liked it that way.

"The other houses are disgusting," he scowled, ignoring her flinch at his flippant tone. "Ravenclaw is the closest to being like Slytherin, yet they are still miles away. Hufflepuff is a joke. It's for wimps. And Gryffindor," A dark look crossed his face. He was surprised, and even slightly impressed, that she didn't flinch at all. "The old codger runs that house. Anything he supports I will _never_ come in contact with. I would rather die."

"Sounds like you like this person a lot," Granger teased. "Who is this old codger you speak about?"

"Dumbledore."

A strange look crossed her face, but it disappeared quickly, leaving a thoughtful expression on her face. She remained silent, however, staring off into the distance.

"What?" Riddle finally snapped at her. What did she have with the old codger? Was she already associated with him? If she was, he would never talk to her ever again. Secrets be damned, he wasn't _that_ curious. He felt disgusted already.

"Nothing," Granger replied smoothly, turning back to him. She lied quite easily, didn't she? Almost as good as him. _Almost_, but not quite. He was perfection, after all. "Which house do you think I would belong in?"

"You? How should I know? You think I watch you?"

"Yes."

Riddle sighed. He _did_ watch her, but that was for information about her past, not about her personality. He knew very little about the latter. "First off, definitely not Slytherin."

Granger raised her eyebrows, and for a second, Riddle saw a small smirk grace her face, almost as if she knew something that she didn't. "Why? You think I'm too much of a loser to be in the 'best' house?" she asked him.

Riddle scowled. "You're too…nice to be in Slytherin." Granger smirked at his word choice. "You don't have the qualities. Maybe you'll be in Ravenclaw. They are all quite the bookworms. Maybe Gryffindor as well, they all share your short temper."

Granger smiled, and then said, "Too nice to be in Slytherin, huh? If only I was." she cast her eyes to the ground and drowned herself in her thoughts. Her eyes focused on invisible objects in the air, and she clasped her hands together gently. She looked vulnerable, and for once, Riddle wanted to reach over and take her hands into his. But he was Tom Riddle, and he simply did not go comforting girls. Not in the past, not ever, especially not now when she brought up another mystery.

"If only you were?" Riddle stared at her, his face impassive. "What?"

Granger was immediately jolted out of her thoughts, and Riddle noted the red tinge that stained her cheeks. "I-I…I'm just not that nice. That's all." She looked away. "So, you think I would be in Gryffindor?"

Riddle clenched his jaw. She really had to stop changing the subject whenever she was in the spotlight. It was really annoying him. "I'm not saying anything. Your personality matches that in Gryffindor, but no one knows. No one, except for the Sorting Hat, of course."

"The Sorting Hat?" She had the glint in her eye again. "Tell me about the Sorting Hat."

Did she ever stop asking questions? Why wasn't he stopping her? Wasn't it supposed to be him asking the questions and her giving the answers? "What do you want to know?" Riddle sighed. "It's just an old rag that happens to contain magic."

"Don't say that," She scoffed. "The Sorting Hat is an amazing magical object that dates back even to the-"

Riddle smirked. It didn't surprise him that she knew everything to the smallest detail. He had never, and he doubt he would ever, meet someone who was as much of a bookworm as she was. _He_ didn't even spend so much time with books, though he doubt that she would beat him in any subject. He let her ramble on for awhile, before he interrupted her, amused. "Are you done yet?"

She flushed again and glared at him. He smirked back in response. "Is it true," she asked, ignoring his last statement. "That the Sorting Hat talks to you?"

"Yes." Riddle wondered why she was asking him. She obviously knew all the answers.

"What did it say to you?"

Riddle scowled, his mood instantly plummeting. She was treading in dangerous territory now. He didn't like it when others asked personal questions. "It's not important."

"Why not?" Tell me." She pressed.

Riddle unleashed his full-out glare, though rather than flinching, Granger met his gaze head on. He stood up abruptly and said firmly, "No."

"Alright, Riddle," Granger held up her hands in defeat, though he didn't miss her eye-roll. Who did she think she was? "Keep your secrets to yourself."

Riddle raised his eyebrows at her. "Bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

"This is different," she crossed her arm.

"How so?"

"It just is," Granger replied, standing up as well. Riddle couldn't prevent a smirk from working its way up his face. That had to be the lamest comeback he had ever heard, and he had heard his fair share. "Well, it's getting dark, Riddle, so I'll leave you to your musings. Good night,"

She moved away from him. "Hold on," he said in a commanding tone, and she stopped walking, but didn't turn around to face him. "I want you to come to Hogwarts."

He heard, rather than saw, her sigh. "I told you already, Riddle." She sounded tired. "I can't come, and nothing you will say will change that."

"Is that a challenge?" Riddle raised his eyebrows even though she couldn't see it. "Why don't I make it easy for you? If you don't come to Hogwarts, you will find your friend in a rather…peculiar state."

She whipped around, and for the first time this evening, Riddle could see traces of anger etched on her face. It was about time she dropped her calm façade and show a bit of emotion. She glared at him, narrowing her eyes threateningly. "You wouldn't," she hissed at him.

"I would," he responded evenly. "Of course, all you need to do is come to Hogwarts. I'm not asking you to jump off a bridge."

"You might as well have," Granger glowered. "Why are you doing this? Why are you so set about me going?"

He tsked her, tapping her nose. She smacked his hand away. "You forgot something, Granger." He replied, his voice melodic. "I don't owe you anything."

Turning around, he gave her a sickening sweet grin. Her face was a mixture of disbelief and anger, he noted, rather pleased. He continued his journey back into the building, but not before calling over his shoulder, "See you around, Granger."

She glowered and stomped her feet down loudly. He had never been more self-satisfied.

This was going to be fun.

_**To Be Continued…**_


	8. Chapter 7 Diagon Alley

**Author's Note: **This chapter was unbelievably hard for me to write. It also happens to be one of the shorter chapters, but you'll have to forgive me. This is the last pre-Hogwarts chapter, so the pace of the story should pick up a bit.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry I'm late, My Lord."<p>

Riddle's eyes flicked up towards the boy standing near the door. He was wearing a smug look, though it dropped away when their eyes met. That was what he hated about Avery; after long breaks, the boy always returned rather not obedient. It always took Riddle at least a week to get him back on track again. It seemed that even though Avery was cursed repeatedly for his sassy attitude and ignorance, the boy never learned.

There also had been that one summer after first year that Avery had came back and challenged Riddle for the spot of the leader. Who did he think he was? There was a reason that he had been held back a year. The only reason that Riddle kept him around was because he was a year older, and that extra year often helped Riddle complete whatever he needed to complete. Not to mention, if he ever got in trouble—which was rarely; he was great at covering up his tracks—he would send Avery to take the blame for him.

"How nice of you to join us, Avery," Riddle said smoothly. He arranged his face in a perfectly blank face, not reflecting the annoyance he felt. Everyone else had gotten there on time. No one else seemed to have misunderstood his instructions. The boy was five minutes late. Five minutes he could've been doing better things.

_Like interrogating Granger._

Avery fidgeted, much to Riddle's pleasure. "I'm sorry, My Lord. I got lost."

"You got lost?" Riddle sneered at him, his tone even and controlled. His eyes flashed red, something he had been able to get them to do after he acquired the diary. It was a good tool, indeed, for intimidating his prey. It had been flashes at first, but now he was better at controlling it. "How many times have you been to Abraxas's house already? You got _lost_?" The boy opened his mouth, but Riddle was in no mood to listen to his excuses. "Sit down."

The boy did as he was told, sitting down in between Black and Abraxas. Riddle almost scowled when he saw the arrogant look cross Avery's face. What made him think he could openly defy him and talk back to him like that? He ought to curse him, but he had a more important business to take care of.

"I assume all of you know why we are gathered here," Riddle said quietly, looking around. He had decided against inviting the rest of his followers. Not because they wouldn't come-he would've ensured that they did-but because it would look too suspicious. Granger was already on his back enough already, and he didn't need her slave buddies or Abraxas's family to start wondering, and he certainly did not need Dumbledore to come over out of the 'goodness' of his heart.

Gabriel was not invited to join Riddle's little group. He had considered it, of course, but even though the older Malfoy son definitely had an evil enough heart, he was a wimp. His magic abilities rivaled those of first years, and when under pressure, the boy would say everything. Riddle couldn't have his followers like that. If the old codger were to get a hold on Gabriel, all his secrets would be revealed, and Dumbledore would have the solid proof he needed to get Riddle thrown in Azkaban.

Walburga was sitting daintily next to her cousin, Black. Her hair was curled up and she was blinking flirtingly at Riddle. He was about to turn away and ignore her when he spotted Avery's furious glare. It was obviously directed towards Walburga, as he would be dead before he even thought about glaring at Riddle. Seeing an opportunity too good to resist, Riddle turned towards Walburga and winked at her. The girl's giggle was a sign that he was still quite charming, and Avery flushed deep red. Abraxas saw the exchange and smirked at him.

Riddle had invited Abraxas to this little circle, because obviously, they needed one of the Malfoy's permission, seeing as it was their house. However, even if that hadn't been the case, he would've probably invited him anyways. Abraxas was a good follower. He was obedient, and he did whatever he was told to do without questioning. Therefore, Abraxas was rewarded. He wanted to show the others what would happen to them if they obeyed him.

Black…he was also one of his loyal followers, but sometimes he got too carried away. _Like with the Truth and Dare game_, Riddle thought to himself. Though, that game had proved to be valuable. He had found out a lot of things from the game. For example, Granger was a half blood. Seeing how her mother's name was Monika Wilkes, who was a respected witch who died three years ago, did that mean that Granger's father was a mudblood? Was Granger's family similar to his? He would have to do more investigations.

And the kiss. He didn't want to think about the kiss, so he didn't.

Avery and Lestrange were both questionable, and since Lestrange was on vacation with his parents—_ever the father's son,_ Riddle thought, amused—Avery was the one left. Even though Avery was, by no means, even close to being his third close follower, he was older. And if he was older, he could apparate them legally. And of course, ever the _loyal_ girl friend, Walburga had demanded to come along to accompany Avery. Riddle saw under her tricks though; Walburga cared about Avery as much as she cared about Gabriel. She just wanted to be close to Riddle. It was rather annoying at times, but the witch had her uses.

"No, My Lord," Abraxas said dutifully when no one else spoke up. _Good boy_, Riddle though. Abraxas knew better than anyone that Riddle hated when silence met his question. "I suspect it has something to do with Hogwarts, though."

"You are correct," Riddle swept his eyes around the room. Avery was leaning back against his chair, looking bored. Riddle seethed angrily; he would punish the boy when they were in a more secretive place. Walburga was winking and grinning flirtingly at him. Well, there was nothing he could do about that. Abraxas had his complete attention towards Riddle. At least he still remembered his place after the break, unlike Avery. Black was looking in disgust at his cousin. Ever since the incident in third year where the two of them had erupted in a fight—over Riddle, no less—the two of them weren't quite civil with each other.

"Where are you going?" Avery replied bluntly.

"Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley?" Avery blurted out. Abraxas turned and shot him a warning glance, but the other boy didn't notice. "Why are we going to Diagon Alley? I already have all of my stuff that I need for Hogwarts."

Riddle narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, noting, pleased, that the boy started trembling slightly. He fingered his wand, and that motion did not go unnoticed by Avery. "Rest assured, we are not going for your pleasure. I am only bringing you along so you can apparate us. If you have better things to do, you may. I'm not forcing you to stay, Avery."

The boy drew in a shaky breath. He knew, as well as everyone in the room, that Riddle might as well have been forcing him to stay. Avery couldn't leave, not unless he wished to be cursed. He gulped and nodded, and wisely remained silent.

Good. Now only if the boy would keep his mouth closed for the rest of his life.

"My Lord," It was Abraxas again. "May I ask why we are going to Diagon Alley?"

"We are going," Riddle said smoothly. "to buy school supplies for Granger, of course."

Abraxas's jaw immediately dropped, his eyes bulging as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Black smirked, recognizing the name. He seemed pleased about the news. Riddle narrowed his eyes; it wasn't easy to please Black. Walburga was clueless, but decided to play along and pretend she knew who Granger was, batting her eyes attractively at Riddle. The scent of her strong perfume reached his nose and he almost gagged.

Right on cue, the subject of their conversation appeared at the door. "Abraxas," There stood Granger, panting, as if she had been running. She was wearing her usual navy blue hoodie with jeans, and her hair was tied up in a ponytail. "I need to apologize for-"

She stopped, her eyes wide, taking in the company. Avery sat up to get a better look at her, his eyes narrowing, and Black even waved cheekily. Walburga, however, stared at her, recognition flicking into her eyes as she regarded Granger with hatred.

ஐ

"This is so cool!"

"Calm down, Granger," Riddle sounded amused. "All we're doing right now is tapping a brick wall."

"Maybe she's just easily impressed," Black pointed out, though neither he nor Abraxas were paying any attention towards the wall. The two of them engaged in a flicking war with each other.

The apparition had gone relatively well. When she had stepped into Abraxas's room with muggle clothes instead of her rags, she had been met with the sight of four other people along with him. She had recognized Riddle, Black and Walburga, and she later found out that the pale boy next to Abraxas was Avery. She realized how incredibly bad her position was. To put it mildly, Walburga had thrown a fit when she had seen her standing there, so she guessed that she wouldn't be allowed to live at the Manor anymore, not unless she wanted to face Walburga's wrath. Well, it was only delaying the inevitable. She would've surely run into Walburga at Hogwarts, anyways, and she didn't fancy being cursed in front of the whole school.

_Not that she can hit me._

Avery, though, was a complete prick. She usually judged people by her first impression of them, and her first impression of Avery was horrid. When he had saw her, the first words to come out of his mouth was, "Tom said that there was going to be a girl coming with us, but I didn't expect her to be a scrawny _slave._"

Avery had made a face and refused to touch her, even after Riddle finally lost control and cursed him.

Just when Avery's refusal and Walburga's glaring were getting the point where Hermione was going to just apparate herself there—law be damned—Abraxas surprisingly leant her his hand. She heard Avery protesting, and Walburga's disgusted look on the two of them, but Hermione took his hand thankfully, smiling up at him. She knew how to apparate, of course. She could hardly survive in the Grindelwald household if she didn't. However, she was still underage.

As soon as they got to Diagon Alley, Walburga and Avery had immediately left after hearing Riddle's order for them to come back before four. The two of them had left, but not before throwing glares back at Hermione. Hermione had sighed, but hadn't minded. There were just some people that were impossible to please.

Frankly, she was okay with her company. Abraxas, was, of course, fine with her again and she found out quickly that she didn't mind Black that much anymore. He had been nothing but nice to her, though he threw in a couple perverted responses every now and then.

And then, of course, was Riddle.

Hermione gaped happily as the wall opened up, revealing a bustling town. Shops flanked both sides of the road, and it was crowded as people ran back and forth, doing their last minute shopping. Riddle smirked at her reaction and said silkily, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

"Where are we going first?" Abraxas inquired, stepping into the town. Hermione followed breathlessly behind him, drinking in everything. The sound of people chattering filled her ears. No pictures nor blocks of text could ever describe _this_. "Any place caught you eye, Hermione?"

"Yes," she said excitedly, and hurried down the cobble stone path. "Oh my, they're so many books in here!" She hurried towards a store named _Flourish & Botts._

"How did I know?" Abraxas groaned, and then tugged Black in the other direction. "Tom?" he asked, addressing the other boy by his first name as they were in public. Riddle turned towards him. "Would it be alright if Black and I went to look at Quidditch supplies? I know how Hermione is with books, so it'll take a rather long time, and I just thought we could go to the Quidditch store in the meantime and not waste any time."

Riddle stared at him, and then nodded. An easy grin covered Abraxas's face, and he dipped his head slightly. Not enough to cause murmurs that there was a person bowing, but enough to show Riddle that the boy was being respectful. The two of them then went towards the Quidditch store, leaving Riddle to follow Hermione.

By the time he managed to get into the bookstore, he found her hunched over a book. Smirking, he leaned over her. She was so engrossed in her book that she didn't notice him until he was right there. She jumped up in shock.

"What are you reading, Granger?" Riddle asked haughtily.

Hermione showed him the cover. There were seven simple letters written in elegant, gold letters. _Animagi. _Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Never knew you were interested in something like that."

"I'm not," Hermione said, and closed the book, setting it back on the shelf. "I will never transform myself to an animal. That's just weird, plus, what if I end up in an animal I don't like? Like…say…snakes."

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "For someone who doesn't like snakes, Granger, you hang around them a lot," he purred in her ear.

Hermione ignored him. "But, there's knowledge I can acquire from this book, so I read it. It's actually interesting."

Riddle smirked. "People who are animagi are pathetic. They're too weak, so they have to change their physical features in order to make up for it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you have to scoff everyone who's different?"

Riddle's lips curled slightly. "Yes." That was all the explanation he offered. He produced a piece of parchment from his robes and held it out for her. "Here's your supply list, Granger. Bring it up to the counter."

Hermione's face fell. "You mean we can't look for the books on our own?" Riddle shook his head, an amused expression plastered on his face. "Aw, bummer. I wanted to find each book by myself."

"You're a strange girl, Granger," Riddle mused. "Time is precious."

"I _want_ stall," Hermione admitted. "The more time I spend among books, the happier."

"Why am I not surprised?" Riddle smirked. "Well, take your time, Granger. Abraxas and Black are at the Quidditch store, and it's impossible to get them to leave _that_ quickly. In the meantime, I'm going to look at my own books." He gave her a small wave, and headed towards the Dark Arts section.

_Of course._

Hermione excitedly looked around. This was awesome. There were so many books here that she had never seen before. She reached for the first one that she saw, a pale book on the top of the shelf, only to have her fingers brush up against someone else's.

That 'someone else' was a boy with red hair and who was slightly taller than her. He wore robes, but they were tattered, faring only slightly better than her rags. He looked about her age, and he grinned at her, which she returned hesitantly.

"Hey, I'm Ron Weasely," He introduced himself good naturally. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new?"

"Yeah." Hermione nodded, still eyeing the cheerfully boy. He seemed familiar, though she couldn't place where she had seen him before. _This is another 'Tim' situation_, she thought to herself. "I'm Hermione Granger," she added. "Nice to meet you."

"Are you going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, handing the book they had both been reaching for to her, and gesturing for them to sit in two of the chairs near the window.

"Yes, I am," Hermione sat down in the chair, putting the book on the table in between them. She flipped it open. Its title was _Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of All Time. _She stared. Of course she would pick up this book. "I'm going tomorrow."

He looked at her, sizing her up, before asking, "What year are you?"

"Fifth."

Ron said, "We're in the same grade. How come you didn't attend Hogwarts before?"

Hermione flipped the book a couple of pages, watching as the criminals in the pictures thrashed around wildly. "I lived in Russia," she explained.

"Russia?" Ron's eyes were wide. "What is it like in Russia?"

Hermione shrugged; it had been awhile since she had been in Russia. Her father had made her move around, first to France, then Italy, and now finally Britain. "It was cold," she said finally. "Lots of snow."

Ron nodded. "Well, welcome to Britain. It's nice here. It snows, but not too much. And Hogwarts is just amazing. Do you guys have a magic school in Russia?"

Hermione shrugged. She didn't know. There probably wasn't. Even if there was, her father would've never mentioned it to her. He didn't want her to be showing her power to others. That was why she had been extremely surprised when he let her go to Hogwarts.

_He probably has an elaborate plan that I won't notice until it's right in front of me_, Hermione thought to herself. She wouldn't put it past him; it wouldn't be the first time.

"Well, Hogwarts is amazing," Ron continued. "The food is awesome. You eat in the Great Hall. There are four tables for the four houses. The four houses are Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor." He added smugly. "Gryffindor is by far the best."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. _If only Riddle heard that_, she smirked to herself. "I'm guessing you're in Gryffindor," she responded.

"Of course I am," Ron said lightly. "Don't I look enough like a lion to you?"

Hermione laughed. She didn't point out that out of the two of them, _she_ was the one who looked most like a lion with her scrawny hair. However, she was convinced that she wouldn't go to Gryffindor. Gryffindors valued bravery. She wasn't brave.

_A brave person would've run away a long time ago._

"Anyways," Ron continued, not noticing the thoughtful expression on her face. "There's also Quidditch. Do you know what Quidditch is?"

Hermione nodded. _I don't think Abraxas gave me a choice there_, Hermione snorted. He had ranted about the sport for thirty minutes straight. She learned to avoid that topic from then on, and had ducked into the nearest room whenever he ran towards her, his expression eager. Abraxas never got quite as happy about anything else as he did with Quidditch.

"You know a lot about Hogwarts," Ron commented, and Hermione nodded. Of course she did; Hogwarts was her dream school, after all, and she had read numerous books on them. She would know even more if the stupid Slytherins hadn't clammed up every time she approached the subject.

Hermione batted her eyebrows, trying to put on her best puppy face. "I bet there are still a lot of things you could tell me that I don't know," she said innocently.

Thankfully, Ron was not like Black, Abraxas or Riddle. He grinned and said easily, "What would you like to know?"

_Finally, someone willing!_ "I don't know," Hermione admitted. There was so much she wanted to find out about. "Maybe the classes? Which classes are you taking?"

"Eh, this year? Not too many. We have the O.W.L. exam to take this year, so I don't want to overbook it. It takes too much studying if I have too many classes." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm aiming for an E on all my subjects."

"An E?" Hermione replied, flabbergasted. "That's an _atrocious_ grade." She noticed the flabbergasted look on his face, and quickly added, "...no offense or anything."

Ron laughed. "Hermione, Hogwarts grades it differently than your school probably did. E symbolizes Exceeds Expectations, and is the second highest grade you can get. It isn't like regular school where E is the second lowest-"

"I know that, of course," Hermione said, slightly offended. "All E's? That's not what you should be aiming for. One E occasionally is acceptable, but you have to get all O's. Otherwise, you may not live a good life. No one wants people who only get E's."

Ron stared at her before he lauged. "Of course it's my luck," he said between chuckles. "That I run into a bookworm. I'll have you know that I'm the worst slacker in the world." He grinned at her. "What classes are _you_ taking, then?"

She knew her classes by heart. "Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Artihmancy, and Care of Magical Creatures." She paused. "That's it. I'm not taking Divination, because that class is a joke, and not Muggle Studies either." _Because Father would flip if he ever found out I was learning about muggles._

Ron looked shocked. "Tell me you're joking."

"I'm not," Hermione said, offended. "You think I can't handle this?"

"No, but," Ron lowered his voice in a whisper. "_No one_ takes this many classes. Not even the worst of all bookworms. Except, of course, Riddle."

_Of course Riddle would take all the classes. _"Riddle?" she asked innocently.

"I forgot you didn't know," Ron said. "Tom Riddle is the biggest suck up Hogwarts has ever known. He kisses up to teachers, except, of course, Dumbledore. Dumbledore can see straight through him." Hermione detected pride in his voice.

"Dumbledore?"

Ron nodded vigorously. "He's the head of Gryffindor, and I couldn't have picked a better man to take the job. He's the only one who can keep the Slytherins in check."

Hermione was musing quietly when Ron added, "There's something wrong with him."

_There's more than 'something' wrong with him. Everything is wrong with him. _"Is there?"

"Yeah. Everyone has learned that making Riddle mad is as good as a death wish. Strange things happen to those who irritate him. However, no one ever traces the curses back to him. He's too careful, and he's _good_. If anyone gets in trouble, it's always his followers," he looked at her. "His followers follow him around like puppies."

Hermione fell silent, musing to herself. That certainly sounded like the Riddle she knew. Ron dropped the subject and glanced down at the page she just absentmindedly flipped to and said, "He's evil."

Hermione looked down, and was met by the smirking face of her father. He gave her a provoking wink. She glanced at the number at the top of the page. _One._ Of course he would be the most darkest wizard of all time, she thought wryly. They dedicated an entire chapter just to his wrongdoings. Twenty six pages. He sure gathered quite a list.

"Yeah," Hermione said in a small voice, scanning over the content. He made every killing he did seem like an accomplishment. He even made a medal for himself. "It seems so."

Ron stared at her. "You've never heard of Grindelwald before?"

_No, of course not_, Hermione thought sarcastically to herself. _I've only been living with him for my whole life. _"Of course I have. He's all over the news. I would be blind not to."

Ron nodded, seemingly okay with her answer. "We're just lucky we have Dumbledore to protect us in Hogwarts," he shuddered. "Everyone knows that Hogwarts is Grindelwald's main target."

Hermione blinked. Her father had never mentioned targeting Hogwarts. He was more focused on muggleborns, and there were definitely places that were more populated with muggleborns than Hogwarts. "Why is that?" she asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"Hogwarts is full of magical teenagers." Ron explained. "A lot of them are strong and magically capable, but they are easily persuaded. If he could persuade a lot of the students to join his side, he would be unstoppable." Ron frowned. "He's already unstoppable now, so it'll make him….unstoppable-er?"

Ron glanced down, his expression sad. "You know, he killed my sister last year,"

Hermione's head whipped up, but Ron's eyes were focused on something in the distance. "Her name was Ginny," he explained. "She foolishly ran off with my best friend last year to be together." Ron sighed. ""The two of them were already dating, and even though it took me some time to get used to it, I did. The two of them still felt uncomfortable with me around, though, so they went on nightly hiking adventures. I mean, isn't it idiotic to hike at night?" He barked out a dry laugh. "Anyways, only my best friend came back. Ginny had died. The two of them had stumbled upon a secret gathering of Grindelwald's. It's a miracle that my best friend came back alive."

"What happened to your best friend?" she asked softly.

"I got mad at him," Ron said hollowly. "He ran away."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. _I'm sorry that my father's such a bastard. _"I'm sorry for your loss, Ron."

"It's the past," Ron shrugged, trying to look indifferent, but failing. "I'm learning to move on. Sure, it's slow, but at least I'm getting somewhere, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure your sister and your best friend would be proud of you, wherever they are."

Ron's eyes dulled. "I don't know. Technically, I caused Ginny's death. If I hadn't been so damn awkward the first two years of their relationship, maybe the two of them wouldn't have the need to run away to get away from me. And my best friend, he hates me. Otherwise, he wouldn't have run away."

Hermione said, "You never know." She thought of Harry. He, too, had a best friend that had run away from him. Maybe the two of them should meet one day.

Ron smiled bitterly. "Now that I've forced my life on you, what about yours?"

"No, it's okay," Hermione smiled gently. She didn't want to talk about her life. "My life's boring. Just books, and studying. I doubt you want to hear about it."

Ron's face immediately lightened up. _Maybe Riddle's not the only one who's bipolar_. "What about Quidditch?" he asked.

Hermione thought back to the last time she flew with Abraxas. _That_ had been interesting. "I'd rather die than fly." Ron's expression fell. "I do know some people who are quite good at flying, though, so I know a lot on it."

"Really?" Ron's expression brightened. "What position do they play? I'm a keeper," he said proudly.

"One of them plays seeker," she said, thinking of how Abraxas always threw around the snitch. She had seen him play chaser, though, so maybe he played multiple positions. Or maybe he just played chaser to train Black. "The other plays chaser."

"Do these friends of yours go to Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"I might know them," Ron grinned. "Who are they?"

Before Hermione could respond, she heard a ridiculously high voice singing out, "Hermioneeee, where are youuuu?"

Hermione wanted to groan as Abraxas and Black headed her way, both carrying two packages that looked strangely like brooms. She noticed the amount of attention they seemed to be getting from the girls, but neither of them noticed. They stopped before her, grinning.

"There you are," Black declared. "Guess what? I have a new name for you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?"

"Of course," Black drawled. "Your new name is," he paused for the dramatic effect. "Tomione."

Hermione stared. "Tomione?"

"Yes," Black replied cheerfully. "Tom plus Hermione. Tomione. Rather clever, isn't it?"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Hermione told him truthfully, and Black's expression fell. "Keep trying, though, Black. I'm sure you'll get there someday."

"I told him it was stupid," Abraxas grinned. "You should've heard him." He cleared his throat and did his best impression of Black. "Tom and Hermione have a beautiful love between them. They will make beautiful babies." Here, Hermione gagged. "He also would like to be the godfather of your children."

"Tough luck, Black," Hermione grinned at him. "We're not having children. Go ask someone else."

"Aw, that's too sad," Black replied. "You know if you ever need advice regarding that aspect, you can always come ask me," he winked at her. "I've been told I'm a particularly good teacher in that field, and I can even give you a demonstration-"

"It's okay," Hermione coughed forcibly, cutting him off. "I think I'm good."

"Pity," Black said, though he didn't sound too crestfallen. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

Someone cleared their throat, and Hermione suddenly remembered that Ron was still there. He was looking at Black and Abraxas in…disgust? Abraxas glanced at him, contempt clearly written on his face. Black turned towards Ron with an evil snarl.

_Ah. The so called 'house unity.'_

"Nice to see you here, Weasley," Abraxas said, though his voice said clearly the opposite. "Are you buying school supplies? I didn't know your family had the money."

Ron glared at him, and then turned towards Hermione. His voice was distinctively colder than it had been earlier. "So I take it these are your two Quidditch friends," he spat out.

"I think I'm getting ear deficits." Black said. "Did I just hear you call us your 'friends?'" He cried mockingly and dramatically. "Who knew that Hermione actually _liked_ me?"

Hermione frowned. "Go away, Black."

"What are _you_ doing here, Malfoy?" Ron countered. "You forgot to buy your materials again?"

Black bent down and whispered in Hermione's year, "Second year, Abraxas spent all summer flying around, training for the Quidditch team. Anyways, he was so focused with training that he ended up forgetting his materials and had to use the school's for a month. Since his parents were on vacation, they couldn't buy it for him. Abraxas, being the Malfoy he was, made quite a big out of it. The school materials aren't in the best conditions. Nevertheless, it got him quite the reputation."

"_I_ got the newest version of Cleansweep, which, no doubt, you cannot afford. That's too bad, isn't it? It looks like Slytherin will win the Quidditch cup again this year." Abraxas sneered, and for the first time, Hermione finally noticed the similarity between him and Riddle.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in." Ron responded haughtily. "_We_ got pure talent."

Abraxas glared, and Hermione could've sworn that his body even glowed. However, before he could throw himself onto Ron, a voice behind him said, "Abraxas."

Riddle—she had forgotten he was even there—stood behind them. A stack of books were in his hand. He stepped around Abraxas, who had managed to calm himself down slightly, and dropped the books in front of Hermione. He told her, "These are your books for school."

Hermione's eyes lit up as she scanned them. They all looked so interesting! She momentarily forgot about the fight her friends were having, and instead turned and beamed at Riddle. "Thank you, Riddle," she gushed, happily picking one up and examined it. "Did you buy it for me?"

"I used Abraxas's money."

Abraxas sighed. "You're welcome, Hermione."

Hermione was too engrossed in her book to respond. She tuned out the world, not noticing that the four other boys around her were all watching her read. Riddle broke the silence first, turning and regarding Ron with an icy cold look.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" He asked. "You are dismissed."

Ron's face turned red. "I am not one of your followers, Riddle," he hissed. "You can't order me around. I need to talk to Hermione."

"You did your fair share of talking to her," Abraxas said, glancing at Hermione. She was swatting away Black, who was attempting to read the book over her shoulders.

Black made a face. "Herbology? Who cares about that?"

"It's brilliant," was Hermione's response.

"Granger," Riddle said irritably. "Weasley here wants to talk to you, and then he'll finally leave. You better do so before I decide to use more..._convincing_ methods." Ron noticably gulped, but to his credit, he didn't back down.

Hermione did as she was told, but glared at Riddle as well. Why couldn't they allow her to read in peace? "Be nice."

He smirked at her. "I'm not nice."

Hermione threw one last glare at Riddle before turning back to Ron. "Sorry about him," she pointed at Riddle, who was openly scowling now. "He's in a bad mood."

"I can see that," Ron eyed the boy. "You know, if you were close friends with Riddle, you should've stopped me before I badmouthed him."

Riddle tensed. "You were badmouthing _me_?" He hissed angrily, eyes narrowed.

"He wasn't badmouthing you," She said sharply, and then added, "Not much, anyways. Besides, everything he said was true." She turned towards Ron. "I'm not close friends with him. We're not even acquaintances, really."

Riddle's lips quirked upwards. "I beg to differ, Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort when Ron spoke up. "Wow," a grin crossed her face, surprising her. She had expected him to be angry, or disgusted. "You have the Slytherins curled around your finger." The 'Slytherins' didn't look particularly happy at this statement, but Hermione herself beamed.

"Your time is up, Weasley. We have better things to do with our time." Riddle forcefully dragged Hermione towards the door. Black and Abraxas followed behind, levitating her books, though they were shooting glares at Ron the whole time.

Hermione managed to say, "Bye Ron," before Riddle dragged her outside and shut the door firmly behind them.

ஐ

Riddle was seething of anger when he left the bookstore. _I wonder what crawled up his arse and died_, Hermione thought to herself. His grip on her arm was painfully tight, and he dragged her roughly out of the store. She wondered if the books had put him in a bad mood. Maybe he had been searching for something, like he usually was, and he didn't find it.

He suddenly released his grip on her arm, and she stumbled backwards, glaring at him. He regarded her with a blank look, though his eyes still held anger in them. She wasn't going to back down, if that's what he wanted. She glared at him, rubbing her arm and said, "That hurt. What was that for?"

"Weasley was wasting my time," Riddle answered coldly.

"Because Merlin forbid that anyone angers Tom Riddle," Hermione muttered angrily under her breath.

Riddle ignored her and turned towards the other two. Only then did she realize that they were levitating her precious books. She reached towards one that was near Abraxas, but all the boy did was shift it out of her grasp, raising his eyebrows. Hermione sighed; she had been halfway through a page, too. Couldn't they let her read in peace?

Riddle said, "We're going to buy new robes for Granger. She can't run around looking like a…" The word was clearly hard for him to spit out; he obviously wanted to choose a much meaner word. "_muggle._"

They walked along in silence, until Hermione asked, "So, tell me about Ron."

Riddle raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, he was cut off by Abraxas. He had a murderous look on his face. "You should stay away from him, Hermione. He's not good for you."

_And people like Riddle are good for me?_ Hermione thought skeptically to herself. However, she said out loud, "Why?"

"Because he's a Gryffindor," Black cut in. "House tensions. But Abraxas here is just sour because Weasley broke his nose third year. He never forgave him for that."

Abraxas scowled as Hermione stared. "It wasn't even an accident. He just flew over and punched me straight in the nose. But _no_, since Dumbledore was refereeing that game, I apparently _flew into_ his outstretched fist. So Weasley got off, unpunished, and of course since I wasn't there, our team lost the game."

Hermione snorted. _Everything has to do with Quidditch, doesn't it? _"It doesn't sound improbable, you flying into Ron's fist. I've seen you fly, Abraxas."

Black laughed as Abraxas clenched his jaw, glaring at her. Riddle said nothing—he didn't even turn around—and continued walking towards the shop. He seemed to be in a particularly bad mood. She wondered what he was thinking.

"There was also what happened last year with his sister," Abraxas added after awhile. "His sister got bashed up by Grindelwald," Here, Hermione flinched, but neither of the boys noticed, and Riddle still hadn't turned around. "Some say she's still alive, but it's pretty obvious she is dead." _She's dead_, Hermione wanted to say. _Or else I would've seen her in my father's cell._ "Of course, he went crying, like any normal person was. But afterwards, he made a big deal out of it. Almost like he was proud of it."

Hermione frowned. That didn't sound like the Ron who had been talking about his sister before. "What did he do?"

"He brought it up as an excuse every time, which is weird for someone who wanted to forget so badly." Abraxas's voice rose into a high, girly pitch. Hermione wanted to point out that Ron didn't sound like that, but she figured that Abraxas wouldn't care. "I'm sorry I didn't do my homework, but I spent all last night crying over my sister. Why are you making fun of me, my sister just died! I can't take the test, I need to go home and comfort my family for the millionth time."

Maybe Ron was overly doing it, but she felt that he had the right to. Still, the hatred was clearly written on Abraxas's face, and she wisely chose to keep quiet, holding all her thoughts inside of her. She entered the shop after Riddle, who had gone to charm the woman behind the counter.

"You overdid it," she heard Black whisper to his friend, but both Hermione and Abraxas ignored him.

"_Tom!_" The woman cooed, patting Riddle's hand fondly. He was _good_. His face was arranged in a polite smile, and he leaned towards her comfortably. Nothing gave away the fact that he was acting. "It's _so_ nice to see you here again!"

"Hello, Madam Malkins," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm afraid the time has come again to buy new robes."

"Of course," Madam Malkins gushed, taking the opportunity to allow her eyes to wander up and down Riddle's body; Hermione almost gagged. "Did you get tired of your old ones already? I can't blame you; they're some new ones in style I think you might love."

"Actually," Riddle drawled slowly. "They're not for me." His eyes flicked to where she stood awkwardly.

Madam Malkins' eyes drifted reluctantly away from Riddle and settled on something behind Hermione. "Mister Black! Mister Malfoy!" She exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Back again?"

"Nope, not us," Black shook his head and gestured towards Hermione. "Little shortcake here needs new robes."

Hermione turned and glared at him.

Madam Malkins narrowed her eyes at Hermione, all trace of her pleasantries gone. Hermione suddenly felt very nervous. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she nodded her head. "It's nice to meet you, Madam Malkins."

She had a feeling, though, that the sentiment was not returned. What had she done to deserve her hate? A quick look around answered her question; all the girls in the shop were either ogling at the three boys accompanying her or glaring at Hermione. _Ah. So that's what it is._

"Do you know what size your…_friend_ is?" Madam Malkins asked dryly, hopping off of her stool.

Hermione opened her mouth, but was quickly interrupted by Riddle. "Yes, in fact, I do," he smiled pleasantly. "She's size twelve."

Gasps met this statement, and Madam Malkins shot Hermione a skeptical look, before disappearing into the backroom. Hermione turned red and regarded Riddle angrily. "How do you know that, Riddle?"

"Secrets, Granger," Riddle said simply, before turning around and stalking after Madam Malkins.

Hermione sighed and turned around, finding Abraxas and Black in an intense poke war with each other. Walking up to them, she hissed in their ears, "People are watching you, you know."

Black looked up and met the gazes of several girls. He winked at them, before turning to smirk at Hermione. "Of course they're looking at me." He said haughtily. "Wouldn't you look if there was something sexy in front of you?"

Hermione didn't dignify a response.

Madam Malkins returned with Riddle, looking rather flushed. Hermione wondered what had happened between the two of them. Sure, Riddle could charm whoever he wanted, but did he even have to _seduce_ them as well? Why did she even care? Madam Malkins directed Hermione over to a stool and started fitting her. Riddle watched, unabashed.

"There you are," Madam Malkins said, already bored. "Is that good?"

The woman had clearly expected her to say, '_yes_.' However, since Hermione didn't quite like the woman, she said instead, "No. It's too big."

Madam Malkins scowled and her and went back into the backroom. This time, though, Riddle didn't follow her. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, smirking. He had obviously noticed the amount of stares he had been getting, and he loved it.

_Attention hog._

"See, I'm not a size 12," she said. "So you were wrong."

"Sorry," Riddle said, not sounding very apologetic. "I'll be sure to look closer next time."

Madam Malkins returned before she could retort, and fitted her hastily. This time, Hermione couldn't find anything wrong with it, so she nodded. Madam Malkins even dared to breathe a sigh of relief. Hermione felt her irritatedness bubbling through her, but she resisted throwing a snarky comment at the woman. The faster she got out of there, the better.

The door opened once again, the bells jingling. Madam Malkins looked over her shoulders and called, "Welcome! I'll be with you in a second." She went back to putting Hermione's new robes into a bag.

"Well, well, little icky Hermione looks ready for Hogwarts," Black commented, smirking. Hermione smacked his arm, but she was grinning. She certainly _felt_ ready.

Abraxas stepped around his friend and observed Hermione quietly. She looked up at him. Unexpectantly, he reached for her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

"You look nice," Abraxas said simply. It sounded so much like what Nick used to say. Never, '_you're beautiful,_' or '_that dress is so pretty on you,'_ but always, '_you look nice_.' She beamed up at Abraxas, and he responded with a small smile and a nod before he stepped away from her.

"That will be ten galleons," Madam Malkins' voice cut frostily through the silence. Riddle glanced towards Abraxas, who nodded numbly before tossing a couple of coins onto the counter. Madam Malkins threw a glare at Hermione, obvious displeased that Abraxas was paying for her, but Hermione shrugged it off. There was nothing she could do about it, anyways. She had no money She'd just find a way to pay him back later.

"Maybe I should give you a new name," Black whispered in her ear. "How does Abramione sound?"

Hermione responded dryly, "What's next, Oriomione?"

Black winked at her. "I'll look forward to it."

Hermione opened her mouth, but before the first word got out of her mouth, a voice behind her said, "Hermione?"

It was Ron, the redhead from before. He offered her a small smile, and then glared at her companions. She nodded back at him.

"Ron," she greeted. "Are you here to buy robes as well?"

"Actually, no," he admitted, ignoring Abraxas' jibe about using hand-me-downs. "I'm here with my friend. He's right over there, actually," he waved to someone hidden behind the aisles. "Hey, come over here. There's someone I want you to meet."

A boy stepped out from the aisles, and Hermione couldn't help but gap. He had blue hair that matched with his aqua eyes. He was taller than Ron, and his fingers were long and thin, like they were created to play the piano. He stopped and froze at the sight of her, and the two of them stared at each other. It seemed like everyone else in the store stopped talking, and Hermione was well aware that her companions were shooting strange looks at her, but she ignored them. There was only one thing that mattered now.

The boy who haunted her dreams.

"Nick," she whispered under her breath.

She saw out of the corner of her eye Riddle tense up when he heard the familiar name. Abraxas whispered something to Black, and a frown covered his face. Hermione wondered what Abraxas had said. Did Abraxas even know? Nick, however, took a step forward. "Hermione," he looked shocked to see her. He reached for her face, as if to convince herself that he was real. "I-"

Hermione snapped out of her stupor and closed the gap between them. Before Nick could get any more words out, she raised her hand and slapped him straight across the face.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **And so Hogwarts begins. My schedule from now on will to be release every Friday, so I'll try to stick to it. Key word is 'try,' but the reviews do help speed the process along. *winkwink*

Chamilia:I can't say much about Nick without giving something important away. But he and Hermione are not going to secretly get married and come back and assassinate Tom, if that's what you're worried about. ;)

Thanks so much for my reviewers! It helps me a lot, and motivates me. You guys are the best.

Chamilia Lutien Tinuviel , Angellwriter, Zombie Reine, GoldenAura, CathyCullen16, sweets1111, Red Sphinx, andiescandieee, hateme101

The store was completely silent; everyone was watching the two of them. Hermione lowered her hand slowly, noting that Nick's cheeks were beginning to take a red tinge. He raised his fingers and touched the part where she had slapped him, before lowering his hands and stuffing them in his pockets. He never broke eye contact with her. Ron looked like he wanted to step forward and help, but wisely thought better of it.

"That was a good slap," Nick told her quietly. "You've gotten better."

Hermione ignored him. "You didn't contact me," she narrowed her eyes at him. "Not one letter, not one phone call."

"You didn't get my letter?" Nick asked worriedly.

Hermione felt irritated. _That_ was all he cared about? "Of course I did, but that was after _five_ _years_, Nick."

"I'm glad you got it," was all Nick said. "I was worried when you didn't respond."

Hermione almost reached out and slapped him again. She clenched her fists and hid them behind her back so he couldn't see them shaking. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes."

Hermione glared at him. "You walked out of my life," Hermione said, trying to mask her hurt. "You walked out of my life, Nick. How can you expect to walk back in?"

"If you'll let me, I can."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What makes you think I will?"

Nick gestured towards himself. "I'm me, right? You could never stay mad at me for long."

He was right, but if he thought she was going to forgive him off the bat and jump into his arms with a huge smile, then he was terribly mistaken. "Yeah, well, I thought you could never run away from me for long. Turns out we were both wrong, weren't we?"

"Look, Hermione, I know that you're mad at me," Nick frowned at her. "But may I step outside with you? I need to have a word."

Hermione crossed her arms, refusing to budge. "No,"

Nick looked around, and then glanced back to her. "You sure? Because I'll just say it, plain and simple, in front of everyone. I don't think they're things you want others to hear."

Hermione scowled at him. He was undoubtedly referring to her father. "Are you _blackmailing_ me, Nick?" she hissed at him.

Nick looked sad. He didn't deserve to look sad. "I don't want to, but if that's what'll make you talk to me, then yes. I _am_ blackmailing you."

Hermione growled and spun around. Everyone in the store looked surprised with the murderous look on her face. Riddle quirked his eyebrow at her; he had probably expected her to be lovey-dovey with Nick. Fortunately, he stayed silent, which she knew was hard for him to do; he must've had a snarky comment waiting on the tip of his tongue. "Excuse me," she said frostily, noting how Ron was backing up slightly. Good, he should fear her. She was formidable. "I need to have a little talk with Nick. Don't wait up."

Before anyone else could say anything, she dragged Nick out of the shop and slammed the door behind her. She heard Madam Malkins yelling inside the store, but her voice got fainter and fainter as the two of them walked away from the store.

"Was that really necessary?" Nick said easily, the two of them along the cobblestone. Hermione didn't know where they were going, but Nick seemed to be confident enough. She had never been allowed to go to Diagon Alley; anything relatively close to Hogwarts had always been a big 'no' for her father. "From the looks of your friends, I don't think they thought you had it in you."

Hermione scowled at him. "You deserved it." She told him darkly.

Nick's grin vanished and he nodded solemnly. "I suppose I did." He looked away. "How are you doing, Hermione? Are you still working for…?"

Hermione nodded.

Nick sighed. "I thought so."

"I'm not brave like you, Nick." Hermione muttered under her breath. "I'm not strong like you, either."

"Are you sure?" he looked at her skeptically. "Remember when you knocked out a ten foot giant when you were five? With you bare hands? That's not strong?"

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled, but didn't say anything.

"There was also the time you fell down the stairs and broke six bones in different places. You didn't cry. _My mom_ did all the crying for you, but you just sat there." He cast her a sideways look. "That's not strong?"

Hermione remembered that incident too well. She had just been yelled at by her father, who claimed she had been spending too much time with books and too little practicing magic. She had protested and argued, but to no avail. Her father ended up locking up half of her books. Her thoughts had been on how to steal them back, and she didn't notice the stairs until she fell down it.

Hermione sighed. "This is a different kind of strong, Nick. I don't see the connection."

Nick rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else. An awkward silence lapsed between them, and she had to walk faster to keep up with his long strides. After awhile, she turned to him, and just to be polite, she asked, "How's your life, Nick?"

"Not bad," he answered. "I started living with the Weasleys, and I'm going to Hogwarts tomorrow. Speaking of which, did your father finally allow you to go to a legit school?"

Hermione nodded happily. "I was fairly surprised, but I'm not going to question him. I don't want to make him change his mind."

Nick remained silent for awhile, and then said finally, "I was worried about you,"

"And so was I. Loads of good that did,"

Nick sighed. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to _say_ anything. I want you to start explaining."

"I thought I did that pretty well in the letter," Nick raised his eyebrow. "That's my life in a nutshell. Russell is still after my sorry arse, and I've moved in with the Weasley's. There's nothing more to it. I couldn't write you a letter beforehand, because I was afraid it would get traced. Once I found a stable Owlrey, it was easier."

"Russell, huh?" Hermione mused to herself. "Haven't seen him in awhile."

Nick snickered. "He's too busy trying to make up elaborate plans to catch me," he said. "Ooh, I've got one of his stupid ones. He levitated a watermelon towards me and ended up missing. Turns out Stalin—you remember Stalin, right? He's that short guy with the ugly afro—had also cast some unknown spell. Nonetheless, the watermelon ended up exploded in both their faces and I got front row seats."

Hermione looked at him, momentarily forgetting her anger. "A watermelon?" she snorted. "That's it. Russell's officially gone bonkers."

"That's not even the best one. There was also a time where he finally figured out he couldn't land a spell on me and just forgot about his wand. He threw the nearest thing he could get his hands on at me. The said object happened to be a duck."

"A duck," Hermione repeated in disbelief. "That's kind of pathetic."

"Russell _is_ pathetic."

Hermione looked at Nick. Even though he had talked about it in a joking way, Hermione knew that it was getting to Nick. He was a teenager, just like her. It must've been hard, to be by himself for so long. If Russell had been after _her,_ she would've broken so long ago. She knew how brutal the man could be when he wanted to be. Hermione was supposed to be his friend. What had she done? She had slapped him.

"Nick, I'm sorry," she took a deep breath as the two of them sat down on an empty bench. "It wasn't my place to slap you,"

"No, I can see where it was coming from," Nick cast her a sideways look. "If our situations were vice versa, I would've done a lot worse than just slap you."

"Like throw a duck at me?"

Nick snorted. "I'm not that desperate."

They sat quietly, enjoying the cool breeze, when Nick suddenly asked, "So, tell me about your friends."

"My friends?" Hermione asked him quizzically.

"Yeah, the people you were at Madam Malkins with. They didn't look too pleased when you dragged me out of there." His eyes twinkled. "Look at you, already having three bodyguards."

Hermione scowled at him. "They are _not_ my bodyguards," she informed him. "Actually, I'm the slave at one of their mansions, so if anything, _I'm_ the one who is below them."

"Slave?" Nick's eyes widened. "Is this for…?"

"Yep."

"Wonder what your old man's up to now," Nick said, though the twinkle was gone from his eyes. "I see no strategic advantages he could get from putting you there."

"Trust me, I've been thinking about this for longer than you."

Nick frowned for awhile, seemingly lost in his thoughts, before he turned back to Hermione. "Nonetheless, I still want to hear about your friends."

"Right," she nodded. "Well, first, the two slaves who worked with me at the mansion are called Harry and Lavender. Harry reminds me a bit of Ron, while Lavender is the same as me when I'm talking about books. Just ten times louder."

"Alright, I get the image," Nick grinned. "The name Harry sounds familiar though…"

"Nick, there are five million 'Harry's in the world."

"I suppose so," Nick said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Though I can't shake off the feeling that I've heard that name over the past few days."

Hermione grinned and rolled her eyes. Knowing Nick, the said name had probably popped up ten years ago. His memory was good—better than hers, as he constantly taunted—but it often sorted out events in the wrong order. "Moving on. The three other boys in the store were Abraxas, Orion and Tom, but I call Orion and Tom by their surnames. Abraxas is the youngest son at the mansion I work at."

"Very pureblood names," Nick commented. "Are they all purebloods?"

Hermione thought of Riddle and his problems with his blood status. "Well, kind of. Some purebloods and some pureblood wannabes."

Nick whistled. "I see what you're doing. Getting close to all the influential people, aren't you?" he grinned when she punched him in the arm. "Ow, woman. That hurt. I was just kidding." His face turned serious again. "Are you fitting in okay?"

_Yeah, totally, with Riddle on my tail on every slip-up I make. _"Better than my last one. It's my turn for storytelling. So, there, I was tracing a muggle named Jack. Don't ask me why Father wanted me to befriend him, but he did. Anyways, so, I was all business for the first few weeks, but apparently it didn't look like that to him." She snorted at the memory. "He ended up cornering me."

"Classic," Nick rolled his eyes. "I always told you you were sending the wrong signs."

Hermione ignored him. "So he kissed me, and I suppose my squirming turned him on even more. I was actually trying to throw him off me in the nicest possible way, but again, he got the wrong idea. I nearly punched him when he almost the gun I hid with his hand."

"Your gun?" Nick's eyes widened. "Isn't your gun hidden in your jean pocket?"

"Exactly."

"He touched it with his _hand_?"

"Yep." Nick snickered. "Don't say anything."

"Alright, alright, I won't." Nick held his hands up. "So, you said you were fitting in better? No guys throwing themselves at you and kissing you?" he smiled.

Hermione gulped. Sure, no one had thrown themselves at her, but she had done the exact same with Riddle…

"You okay?" Nick noted her expression. "You look like you just swallowed a lemon."

"I…er…no one has thrown themselves at me, nope." Seeing Nick's expression, she felt compelled to go on. "I kind of got myself into a truth or dare game, and..well…_I_ threw myself at someone. And kissed them." She added quickly. "Against my will, of course."

Nick's mouth dropped open. "You played a truth and dare game?" he asked incredulously, completely ignoring her embarrassing declaration. "I know they're your friends, Hermione, but do you have a death wish? You know what would've happened if they asked something personal."

"I know, but I'm still here, aren't I? I learned my lesson." _Unfortunately, they still won't let me hear the end of it. _"I will never play another game again,"

Nick frowned, but didn't press it further, much to her relief. However, she almost died when he asked, "Out of curiosity, which one of your bodyguards did you kiss?"

Hermione coughed and looked away. "Ah, er, Riddle, actually. Though it was Black that came up with the dare."

Nick laughed. "You have a weird relationship with them indeed."

"_We_ have a weird relationship," she pointed out wryly.

"How do we have a weird relationship?" Nick asked, slinging his arm around her shoulders. She laughed and squirmed, but he tightened her grip on her. "We're bestest friends!" To prove her point, he gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Ew, Nick!" she squealed, rubbing off the spit. "That's gross. Now I have your saliva all over my face-"

"_Get your hands off of her_,"

Hermione looked up. Standing in front of them, lo and behold, was the king himself. Riddle stood there, a rather furious expression on his face. Abraxas and Black were standing behind him, still levitating her precious books. They cast her a curious glance. Ron was standing far away, as if afraid to go near the three Slytherins. He shot Nick a look that Hermione couldn't interpret. Behind Ron, she could see Walburga and Avery loitering around. She didn't know if the two of them saw them yet.

Nick removed his arm from her shoulder and stood up, brushing himself off. His face was expressionless. "Hello. I'm Nick. Are you Abraxas?"

Hermione almost choked. Riddle's face gave away nothing, his previous anger gone. His face was polite, but Hermione could see a hard edge in his eyes. "No. I'm Tom."

"Ah," Nick said, the name registering in his brain. "You must be the knight in shining armor who stole Hermione's fourth kiss."

Hermione coughed loudly, turning red. The angry look on Riddle's face had returned. Black whispered something that sounded suspiciously like, '_Ooh, little shortcake is not as innocent as we thought!'_ Abraxas elbowed him.

"W-wha—" Hermione sputtered. "Why were you counting, Nick? Even I don't know how many…" she trailed off, thoroughly embarrassed. Nick was smirking at her—that bastard, he did it on purpose!—so she decided to change the subject. "So, you guys, this is Nick. He's my childhood friend."

"Bestest friend," he corrected.

"Whatever," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nick's first day at Hogwarts is also tomorrow, so you'll be seeing more of him."

"Great," Riddle snarled. His bad mood from earlier hadn't seemed to wear off. "I'll look forward to it." He turned to Hermione. "Granger, up. We're leaving."

"What?" she squeaked. There was still a lot she needed to catch up with Nick. Not to mention, she still needed his advice. He was the only person in the world who understood what she was going through. "I still need to talk to Nick."

"Your time is up," Riddle snapped at her, and then forcefully dragged her to her feet. Hermione glared at him, but he didn't notice, focusing his glare at Nick instead. She hadn't seen him this angry before, not even with his own father. "I'm sorry, but we have to go," he said, not sounding very apologetic. "I hope to see you at Hogwarts," His tone clearly implied the opposite.

Nick inclined his head politely. If he was scared by Riddle's expression, he didn't show it. "Ditto." He scanned Riddle's enraged face for a few seconds, before bending down and kissing Hermione on the cheek. "Bye, Hermione," He said calmly, though Hermione could see he was clearly fighting a smirk. That prick, he obviously did it on Riddle's benefit! It seemed to work; Riddle glowered at the other boy. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Nick," she managed to call out before Riddle wretched her arm backwards. She almost stumbled into the pile of books Abraxas was levitating. Nick nodded at her, and sent a mock wave at Riddle. The other boy said nothing, his face blank once again, and dragged her over to where Walburga and Avery were sharing an ice cream. Before Hermione could protest, Riddle hissed something at them, and she felt the darkness of the apparition envelope her.

ஐ

"Abraxas, you're insane,"

"I can assure you I'm not," the blonde told her swiftly. "Honestly, everyone has been charging at this wall for the last few centuries. It's not going to suddenly block you out."

"You never know," Hermione muttered. "There could be a house elf who doesn't want me to go to Hogwarts because there's something there that wants to kill me. And then the house elf could be compelled to lock me out."

Abraxas threw her a grin. "You come up with the weirdest stories."

Hermione said nothing, but instead glanced at her luggage behind her. She was so happy when she got to pack them. She had never imaged that the day would come where she would be allowed to put _Hogwart books _in her bag.

After returning from Diagon Alley, Riddle had stomped off to somewhere. She hadn't seen him since, but Abraxas said that since he got his Prefect badge, he had to get on the train earlier. Hermione had shrugged it off; of course Riddle would be a Prefect. _Because he's really so perfect, isn't he? _She thought to herself.

Black had apparated away, promising to meet them on the train. He left with the words, "Don't do anything naughty, you two. I'll be joining you on the train, and I would like to keep my innocence, thank you." Abraxas had slugged him in the shoulder, embarrassed. Hermione had just left, pretending she hadn't heard him. She had learned over the past few days that the worst possible thing one could do was to encourage him.

She hadn't been able to see Harry or Lavender before she left, but Hermione guessed that the two of them probably pulled through with their plan to sneak into the park. It was a pity; she wanted to talk to Harry about Ron, and she wanted to say goodbye to both of them, but she settled on writing a short letter. She had left it under Lavender's pillow.

"Would you like to go first?"

"Aren't you the gentleman," Hermione teased him. "If I break my neck, I'm going to sue you."

"Sue?" Abraxas blinked. "Who's Sue?"

Hermione's jaw dropped open. "There's no suing in the wizard world?" she asked. She had been in both the muggle and wizarding world that she often couldn't tell if something was in one world or in both. Maybe wizards had more effective ways.

"No…" Abraxas said slowly. "I've never heard of a girl named Suing."

"Never mind," Hermione resisted rolling her eyes. It wasn't Abraxas's fault that he didn't know something muggle. "So, I just run?"

Abraxas looked like he wanted to continue the previous topic, but instead just nodded.

Hermione took a deep breath. It was okay. This was a wall. She had dealt with harder opponents in the past. What was the worst thing that could happen to her? She could crash, and look like an idiot, but it wasn't life-threatening. Pushing her cart, she began to gain momentum. The wall grew nearer and nearer, and she closed her eyes and anticipated the crash…

The crash never came. Hermione opened her eyes and saw families walking together. They were all, no doubt, wizards, as they all carried carts with animals. She looked down at her lonely suitcase. She would have to request for an animal later on.

She saw Ron's red hair in the distance, bobbing up and down in the crowd. Two twin towers stood next to him, picking at something on his face. Ron scowled and flicked them off, before waving his mother and getting on the train. Nick was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione's eyes focused on the huge train in front of her. It was _huge_. This was it. This was the Hogwarts Express. She was going to ride it, and then go to Hogwarts. _Hogwarts!_ The reality started to sink in, and she felt a huge smile cover her face.

…only to be promptly ripped off when something barreled into her right side, causing pain to erupt.

"Damn it," she heard someone curse. It was Abraxas. "Hermione, did you just stand here, staring? You have to move, you know. This wall is like a door. What happens if you stand in front of a door? You get flattened."

"What if the door opens the other way?" she murmured, but stepped away from the wall nonetheless. She didn't take her eyes off the train. It was one thing to watch it move in the pictures, but it was another thing to actually be standing before it.

She could only imagine what Hogwarts would be like.

"Come on, Hermione," Abraxas picked up his both of their luggages quite easily. "It's just a long train. There's nothing too special about it. Get on the train or we'll miss it."

She really didn't want to, but Abraxas had a point. Hermione cast one last look at the outside before climbing in. Abraxas was right; it looked exactly like a normal train, both inside and outside. Still, it was the _Hogwarts Express. _It didn't matter what it looked like.

"Why don't you levitate the luggages?" she suggested. She felt rather bad about making him carry hers as well, but he insisted.

"Wouldn't want to scare the first years with my awesome spell casting abilities." Abraxas replied cheekily.

She found most of the compartments mostly full, so she kept walking. If she had been alone, she would've just chosen a random compartment, but she had no idea how keen Abraxas was to sit with random people, and she didn't want to be separated from him either. Not to mention, he might have other friends he wanted to sit with.

_Though_, Hermione thought wryly, _I doubt he'd have problems making 'friends.' _She spotted some girls in compartment three who were blowing kisses at him. She turned around, but found her friend either oblivious or purposely ignoring them.

She was starting to get rather impatient near the end of the train, as the number of people in each compartment grew, but amazingly stumbled upon a compartment that was completely empty. Hermione stared at it.

"Abraxas?" she called. He arrived moments later with the two trunks still firmly in his hands, a slight bead of sweat in his forehead. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like, '_Thank Merlin for Quidditch muscles.'_ "Is this compartment cursed?"

"No." He sounded amused as he tucked their trunks away and opened the door to the compartment, plopping down immediately and making himself at home. "Why would you say that?"

"Because all the other compartments are full," she said suspiciously, but sat down across from him anyways. "Why is this one completely empty?"

"That's because Tom claimed it his first year," Abraxas said. "And you know how Tom is. He doesn't like to share. This compartment, compartment number twelve, will always be known as the compartment of the Knights."

"The Knights?" Hermione inquired, coming across an unfamiliar term.

Abraxas paled considerably and look away. Hermione didn't miss the nervous look that crossed his face. "Nothing."

Hermione remained silent, her mind whirling. Did Riddle's followers have a name? What was their purpose? Who was in it? Did they hurt people? With a leader like Riddle—she had no doubt he was the leader—anything was plausible.

The door to the compartment swung open and Black came sauntering in. "Yo, shortcake!" He greeted cheerfully, plopping down next to her. "I have decided to call you Squirtle from now on."

Hermione looked at him. "Pardon?"

"Squirtle. You know, the pokemon? Since you're short, you're a squirt. And squirt sounds like Squirtle, does it not?"

Hermione stared at him. "How do you even know about pokemon?"

"That would be my doing," Abraxas grinned. "When he was three, our mothers arranged for us to meet. He took my favorite stuffed animal and chewed on it. I was not happy."

"I was a little kid," Black defended. "Little kids like to chew on stuff."

Abraxas ignored him. "I turned on a muggle tv that my parents had threw down to the basement, and the first thing that popped up was pokemon. So I tied him up and made him watch the whole season."

_If only Father's punishments were so easy._

"It was horrible," Black made a face. "They were so stupid. The bad guys sucked at disguising themselves, and they still ended up fooling the protagonist. Plus, they were all ugly."

"That's my favorite childhood show you're insulting there," Hermione laughed. "Though I have to admit, the disguises _were_ rather pathetic. I bet _I_ could do better than that," she said haughtily.

She immediately regretted it. A smirk formed on Black's face, and she didn't want to hear his suggestion about what she should disguise _as_. Fortunately, she was saved from Black's reply when the compartment door opened once again.

The boy who came in looked a lot like Black—Hermione guessed they were brothers. His eyes, however, rather than light and joking like Black's, were dark and moody. He looked almost like Riddle when Riddle was irritated. His eyes immediately flashed to Hermione, and he narrowed his eyes.

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, noticing the way his body tensed up at her surname. "And what's your name?"

"None of your business," he said coldly, and then spun to Black. "I hope you know what you're doing. Mother disowns blood traitors." Without saying anything else, he slammed the compartment door and stomped away.

"He seems nice," Hermione murmured.

Black sighed. "You'll have to forgive my brother. Cy hates muggleborns as much as Tom does."

"And you?"

Black shrugged and deftly avoided her question. "But you're not muggleborn, are you?"

Hermione shook her head. Sometimes she did wish she was muggleborn to avoid having her father as a parent, but then she would have to face the discrimination of blood status. It was bad enough when she announced she wasn't a pureblood.

"Cygnus is another Avery," Abraxas explained. "They're both quite rude. The major difference is that the kid worships Tom. I always thought he'd ask Tom to marry him, but I guess he hasn't worked up the courage yet."

Hermione patted Black's arm sympathetically. "Your brother is going through a lot," she told him, putting on her most innocent face. "You need to offer him advice."

Black scowled. "If Cy wants information about Tom, he can get it himself. I sure am not going to ask Tom if he has a gender preference."

Hermione giggled. She didn't see why it would matter; as long as the person had something Riddle wanted, he didn't care who they were. He would stop at nothing to get it. It didn't have to do with feelings on his side. She doubted Riddle would care if his target was a boy or a girl.

Hermione glanced out the window. The scenery was flashing by so fast that she couldn't make out distinct objects. Everything looked like a green blur, but she didn't care. She was on the Hogwarts Express, and she couldn't be happier.

_I'm going to Hogwarts!_

She must've dozed off, because when she opened her eyes again, the sky was turning dark. Dark clouds loomed in the sky, though, to her disappointment, she still couldn't see the castle. They must be getting close, though, since she didn't remember the books saying that students needed to spend the night on the train.

She turned away from the window and noted that her two companions were both asleep. Abraxas looked like a baby when he was sleeping, and she smiled fondly at him. She turned her head slightly to look at Black, who was leaning against the wall. It sounded like things were getting pretty heated in Black's dream, and when she cast him a look, she saw a little drool coming out of his open mouth.

She giggled and reached for her wand, producing a marker out of nowhere. This was going to be fun.

That was how Riddle found her, ten minutes later. She had already finished with Abraxas and was on her way to draw a pig nose on Black's face when he opened the compartment, a weary look on his face. It was replaced by a smirk when he saw her leaning over Black, a marker on his face.

"Well, Granger," he smirked, shutting the door behind him. He shifted Abraxas aside to make room for him to sit down. A Prefect's badge was pinned on his robes, and she marveled at the shininess. "You look like you're having fun."

"Yeah." She quickly tucked away her marker. She didn't know why, but it suddenly seemed extremely silly that she was drawing on their faces. "How was your Prefect meeting?"

Riddle scowled. "Terribly boring. We went over the patrol schedule for at least fifteen minutes. It was self explanatory, but of course some blubbering Hufflepuff didn't get it at all. Then they went over the rules like we haven't heard them from the first day."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Should you be trash talking the system?" she asked him. "What would the teachers say if they knew the famous _Tom Riddle_ was actually not so perfect and tolerant after all?"

"What are you going to do, tell on me?" Riddle smirked. "No one would believe you. After all, like you said, it is your word versus _Tom Riddle's_. Who do you think they'd believe more? The new student or the perfect role model?"

"The new student, of course."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night, Granger."

Hermione realized it was pointless to continue arguing with him, and promptly changed the subject. She asked him a question that had been on her mind for the majority of the train ride. "What house do you think I'll be sorted in to?"

Riddle looked at her. "You already asked me this before."

"That was before. Your answer could've changed."

Riddle scowled. "I didn't learn anything new about your personality, Granger. All I know is apparently, you like to swap spit with your childhood friend."

Ah. He was still sore about that.

"We were not 'swapping spit,'" she glared at him. "We were merely hugging, and you overreacted, which led to Nick provoking you. He wouldn't have done it you weren't so angry."

"Because you know him _so_ well,"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Hermione almost yelled at him. What was his problem? "He's my best friend. Why do you care so much?"

Riddle clenched his jaw, ignoring her question. "Looked like more than that."

"_Why do you care?!"_

Unfortunately, like always, Riddle never answered her question. Instead, he turned to look out the window. Hermione followed the suite, but didn't see anything of interest outside.

"Gryffindor." He said finally.

Hermione blinked. Riddle thought she would go to his enemy house? Well, that was awkward. Was now the time where she supposed to declare war on him?

Seeing her disbelief written on her face, he explained, "Weasley's in Gryffindor."

Hermione stared at him like he had gone crazy. Just because Ron was in Gryffindor meant she was supposed to go there as well? She didn't even know Ron that well. She probably knew even _Black_ more than she knew Ron. All they did was talk a little; it wasn't like they were best friends.

_Plus_, Hermione thought sadly. _I can probably never be friends with Ron, not when my own father murdered his sister. _

Or maybe Riddle thought that since Ron and Nick were friends, Nick would go to Gryffindor as well. That would probably be the case; Nick was definitely brave and loyal like a Gryffindor. He would fit in just fine. However, even though Nick was her best friend, would she be in Gryffindor? _Could_ she be in Gryffindor? She tried to place herself there in her mind. She didn't think she would fit in.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by a surprised yelp that elicited out of Riddle's mouth. Abraxas had turned over so that he draped himself over Riddle's lap. He mumbled something, and then threw his arms around Riddle's waist, hugging him. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as the dark look on Riddle's face grew. "Abraxas," Riddle hissed, thoroughly disgusted. "Get off of me."

When Abraxas didn't move, Hermione snorted. "He's asleep, Riddle. He can't hear you."

Riddle scowled and pushed Abraxas off of his lap and onto the floor. Thankfully, the seats weren't two high up, and when the boy's head crashed into the ground, it didn't seem like too much damage was done. The boy groaned and sat up, now fully awake.

"Ow," he rubbed his head. "Who did that…" he trailed off, his eyes widening when he saw Riddle sitting there, a look of annoyance on his face. "I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't see you there."

Riddle simply said, "Get off the floor or I'll kick you."

Hermione glared at him. "You're the person who pushed him onto the floor in the first place."

"If he didn't want to be on the floor, maybe he should think twice about molesting me."

He was being utterly ridiculous. "He was not molesting you!" she said so shrilly that Black began to stir. "He was _sleeping_. You can't control what you do when you're sleeping."

"Hermione," Abraxas said, trying to appease her. It didn't work. "It's alright. I'm fine." He sat down on the chair again. Stupid Slytherins refusing to anger Riddle. Hermione harrumphed and turned away, but not before seeing Riddle roll his eyes.

_That prick._

"Holy shit," Black slurred, sitting up sloppily. "What happened to your face, dude?"

Abraxas stared at Black. He had just noticed that Black's face had been drawn on. _Crap._ She had completely forgotten about her works of art. "I could ask you the same thing."

They both simultaneously turned to Hermione, revenge written on their faces.

"Wha-" She gestured towards Riddle, who was sitting there, rather amused. "Why would you single me out? How do you know that Riddle didn't do it?"

"Unlike you, Granger, I don't lower myself to such childish pranks," Riddle informed her.

Black grinned and flipped her body so she was lying down on the seats. She squealed as he loomed over her. "Ready, Abraxas?" he called over his shoulder.

Abraxas produced two spare markers and handed one over to Black. He had a rather insane look on his face. It scared Hermione to no end. "We're going to give you a complete makeover, Hermione."

Black looked at him. "Panda?"

Abraxas nodded. "Panda."

"What?" Hermione said, squirming. Black didn't release his hold on her, and instead, tightened it. "Panda what?"

"You'll see, Squirtle. You'll see." Black turned towards Abraxas. "How about a Squirtle…?"

Abraxas shook his head. "Panda."

"I feel like you two are speaking some foreign language," Hermione muttered as Black started tracing something near her mouth. She snapped her teeth, trying to bite his hand, but he pulled away, laughing.

"You better close your mouth, Hermione dear. I doubt that marker tastes good."

"And stop moving, for Merlin's sake. Do you want me to draw in your eyes?"

"Riddle," she snapped, turning her head purposely. Black cursed under his breath when she messed him up. "Help me."

"On contrary, Granger, I think I shall stay here," Riddle replied smoothly. "This is rather amusing to watch."

"I'll draw on your face one day," She hissed at him, before Black turned her head so she had to stare at him.

"I'll look forward to it, Granger."

"There you go, Hermione," Black smirked. "Now you can even stare at my face when I give you a makeover. Many girls would die to be in your position."

"Why don't you go find another girl to bully, then?"

"Too much effort," Abraxas said, capping his marker. He stepped back, observing his work. "Perfect. Just like a real panda."

"This is a work of art," Black said happily, producing a mirror out of his robes. "We could sell her for millions of galleons."

"Do you always carry a mirror around with you?" she asked him.

"Of course. I never know when I want to look at my beautiful face."

Hermione snorted and grabbed his mirror. Raising it to her eye level, she almost dropped it again. "This," she said, rather scandalized. "Is possibly the worst piece of art I have ever seen. I could've done better in kindergarten."

"Kindergarten," Black repeated blankly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but rephrased her sentence. "I could've done better when I was five."

"That's why it's so brilliant," Abraxas piped. "You'll walk around having an ugly panda on your face for your first day at Hogwarts. You didn't think we would make it easy for you and draw it beautifully, did you?"

"No, but I expected it to resemble a panda somewhat." Hermione said shortly, patting around her pocket. When she didn't feel the familiar piece of wood, she glared at the two boys. The two of them wore similar guilty expressions. "Give me back my wand."

The two of them looked at each other, before looking back at her. "Why would you want your wand, Hermione?" Black purred.

Hermione glowered at him. "I don't know, maybe to wipe the marker off my face?"

Black held her wand up in front of her face. Hermione snatched at it, but Black moved his hand away. "Tsk, tsk, Hermione," He said. "If you want it, you'll have to try a lot harder than that."

Hermione growled, ripping her hand out of Abraxas's grasp. The blonde boy let out a yelp, but Hermione didn't find out what he did next. She threw herself onto Black, tackling him onto the ground. The other boy grunted, and she reached for her wand. He held it away from her.

"Nice try, but that's not enough," Black sounded way too gleeful for someone in his position. "However, if you give me a kiss, then I shall consider it."

Hermione paled, though she breathed in a sigh of relief when she saw the teasing look on Black's face. She could, however, feel Riddle's dark magic rolling off him in dark waves. Black noticed as well, as the look slid off of his face and he glanced nervously at Riddle.

_Why does he have to get angry so often? _

However, before any of them could say anything, the door opened once more. Cygnus and Walburga were standing near the door, both of their eyes immediately focusing on Hermione's peculiar position. Hermione did not miss the disgust evident in both their eyes.

"I was hoping you might be gone by now," Cygnus clipped.

"Cy," Black said warningly, though his eyes were on Walburga, who had discovered Riddle was also in the compartment. She flounced over to where he was sitting, and instead of sitting down on the empty seat next to him, she placed herself in his lap. Riddle plastered a pleasant smile on his face, settling his hands on her waist, and Walburga giggled. Hermione almost gagged.

_There goes her 'relationship' with Avery._

"Sorry, but I'm still here," Hermione stood up smoothly, brushing herself off. Black sat up, rubbing his head. "What do you have against me, anyways?"

"You're making out with my brother."

Hermione stared, loss for words. Black laughed loudly, pushing himself against the wall to support himself. Abraxas, to his credit, at least attempted to hide a grin. Riddle looked amused, but Hermione wasn't sure if it was because of her situation or because Walburga had latched herself to his face.

"Really, Hermione," Black winked at her. "If you were that desperate, you could've just asked. I know I'm sexy and all, but I think you can keep your hands to yourself."

"Black," Hermione groaned. "Do me a favor and shut up."

Cygnus was staring at the two unamused. He must have a strong tolerance; even Riddle smirked when Black showed off his dramatic acting skills. "I don't care what you do, Orion. If you want to mingle with the wrong crowd, don't drag me into this."

Riddle frowned, though Cygnus was obviously just referring to just Hermione. She decided right there that she really did not like Black's brother. "For your information, I'm not muggleborn," she felt the need to clarify it. His whole hate seemed to be fueled upon the fact that she was muggleborn. "I'm half blood,"

"Does it matter?" Cygnus asked softly. "You're all the same."

He left a furious Hermione in his wake as he stepped out of the compartment and closed the door behind him. Abraxas looked in between Hermione and Riddle, as if deciding who to comfort first. Hermione suddenly realized what Cygnus's statement would've done to Riddle's temper. All her anger evaporated instantly and she suddenly feared the safety of Cygnus's life.

The dark scowl on Riddle's face confirmed her fear.

However, Riddle wouldn't hurt one of his fellow housemates, would he? If he told Cygnus why he was attacking him, then it would be revealed to everyone that Riddle was a half blood. However, Hermione realized, Riddle didn't need to explain to anyone. He would just walk up to Cygnus and curse him, and because he was Tom Riddle, he would get away with it.

Although she hated the Cygnus, and she had no doubt that he hated her back, no one deserved to get murdered by another man.

_No one._

ஐ

"Are you lost?"

Hermione blinked up at the girl in front of her. She was _tall_, which was hard to be in Hermione's mind, as she had spent the last few weeks with a couple of boys who were easily at least five or six inches taller than Hermione. The girl had beady eyes, spectacles and brown hair was tied up in a bun. If it hadn't been for the Prefect badge attached to the front of her robe, Hermione would've thought she was a teacher. She looked rigid and rather uptight.

"No," Hermione shook her head. She looked around the crowd, but even the first years managed to block her view. She really _was_ short. Riddle had promised to bring her to the Headmaster's office after he showed the newly sorted Slytherin first years to their common room. "I'm waiting for Riddle, actually. Erm," she added quickly. "Tom Riddle. You might know him. He's a Prefect."

The girl's eyebrows almost disappeared under her hair. "Of course I know Tom Riddle," she said. "I don't think there's anyone in this school who doesn't know who Tom Riddle is." She stared down at Hermione. "Are you his sister?"

Hermione stared at her. "His s-sister? No." she patted her hair to make sure it was still her own. Bushy hair greeted her fingertips. "Do I look like him?"

"No," The girl said, seemingly already bored with Hermione. She kept glancing around, as if she couldn't wait for a distraction so she could get away from Hermione. _Well_, she thought to herself, _if she didn't want to talk, she should've just stayed away. _"I don't think Tom even has a sibling. Even if he did, he or she would probably disguise themselves."

Hermione blinked at her. "Why?"

The girl scanned around the crowd—scanning for Riddle, Hermione supposed—before bending low and whispering, "Tom's evil, that's why. If I were his relative, I would be ashamed to show my face at school."

_Nothing I didn't know before._

"Why is he evil?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Honestly, he has all the girls wrapped around his finger. Most of the professors as well, except for Professor Dumbledore. Tom can never fool Professor Dumbledore."

This was the second person that mentioned Riddle and Dumbledore in the same sentence. "I know someone who said the exact same thing," she told the girl. "Ron Weasley. Do you know him as well?"

"Yeah. His red hair is sort of hard to miss."

Hermione nodded. "Are you in Gryffindor?"

The girl smiled proudly. "Yes. It is, after all, the best house."

Hermione refrained from snorting, and instead smiled politely. "I'm going to get sorted," she informed her. "Riddle was going to take me to the Headmaster once he was done showing the first years around."

"Ah," the girl nodded, focusing on something in the distance. She was obviously not giving the conversation her full attention, and Hermione wondered why the girl was still talking to her. She had millions of opportunities to slip away. "Tom got assigned to you, didn't he?"

"No, he offered and I accepted."

The girl whipped around, staring at her with wide eyes. "Tom _offered_…?" she asked, murmuring to herself. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, I guess that would fit in well with his plan." She trailed off.

"What plan?" Hermione asked loudly.

"Tom has a perfect student image to maintain in front of the teachers." The girl explained. "It would help enhance his so called 'perfect role model' image if he helped out a random new student. Dippet would buy it quickly, anyways."

Hermione frowned. She certainly hoped that was not the only reason that Riddle offered. "I'm not a random new student to him," she said. "I sat with him on the train, and I knew him from before."

"No way," The girl breathed, a look of amazement crossing her face. "_You_ were the girl who was in the Slytherin compartment on the train?"

Hermione wondered how on earth the news could've travelled that fast. It wasn't _that_ important, was it? "It could be Walburga," Hermione suggested. "She was there was well,"

"No, they specifically said that it was an unidentified normal girl," the girl glanced at her. "No offense or anything."

Hermione shook her head. "None taken."

"You know Tom outside of school?" The girl asked her. "Since you're not his sister, are you his girlfriend?"

"No!" Hermione denied a little too loudly, causing many heads to swivel towards her. The girl snickered slightly. "I don't know what kind of relationship we have, actually. Maybe acquaintances?"

The girl observed her carefully, and then said, "It's good that you're not his friend yet. It makes my job much easier." She caught the skeptical look Hermione gave her. "Look, I'm not trying to pry into your personal life, but Tom's not what he seems like. I don't know how much about Tom you know, but he's dangerous. I'm not saying this to get him 'all to myself,' like many girls say, but I know how he is."

_Trust me, I know a lot about Riddle as well._

The girl was still staring at her worriedly, and Hermione blinked back, unsure of what she was supposed to say. '_I won't go near him?_' she couldn't do that; she had the promise she had made to Tim. Thankfully, she was saved from replying when someone put their hand on her shoulder.

"Granger," the subject of their conversation said smoothly. He smirked slightly, and then lifted his eyes to meet the girl. She stared back, face perfectly blank. "Minerva."

"Tom," she greeted frostily, and Hermione instantly knew that her earlier statement wasn't a lie; this girl clearly did not like Riddle. "I will leave you two to let you visit the Headmaster," she nodded at Riddle, and then sent Hermione a glance, before spinning on her heels and walking away.

"Looks like you've made a new friend already, Granger," Riddle drawled once Minerva was out of sight. He gestured for her to follow him, and she did, rushing to catch up with his long strides. "Aren't you popular."

"Who was she?"

"Minerva McGonagall, often referred to as Minnie by Orion," Riddle said. "She' the best in transfiguration, but I'm still better, of course," Riddle said haughtily.

"She doesn't seem to like you much,"

Riddle shrugged. "Can't win them all,"

As they walked through the hallway, Hermione begged to differ. Everywhere she looked, there were girls swooning after him, or boys offering a slight sign of greeting. Riddle ignored them all and brushed through the castle. After awhile, the girls gave up and started to glare at _her_ instead.

Hermione suddenly realized she had associated herself with the wrong person.

"Nervous?" Riddle asked, and she realized she had been silent for a couple minutes. Hermione shook her head; she wasn't nervous with the process, but her results. Was she going to follow her father's footsteps, or was she more than just her father's daughter?

She hoped it was the latter, even though she would be leaving behind most of her friends if that were the case. She just wanted reassurance that she _was not like him. _

She was thinking too much. _She needed to get her mind off of this._

"Who do you share a room with?"

Riddle looked caught off guard. She didn't blame him; her question _was_ rather sudden. He recovered quickly, however, and said smoothly, "Abraxas, Orion and Cygnus."

"Are you allowed to share rooms with different grade levels?"

"Yes." Riddle said slowly. "Though it doesn't apply in our case. We're all going into our fifth year."

Hermione's jaw dropped open. "Cygnus is going into _fifth year_?"

Riddle sounded amused. "Of course. You didn't think he was a first year, did you? Orion and Cygnus are twins." He smirked at her expression. "The Blacks have a lot of children," he informed her. "They have to make sure that the family name will be carried on forever."

"Any other Blacks I should note?"

"Alphard," he offered. "Orion's older brother. He's not particularly important." Hermione almost snorted. "He's the Head Boy, and some random mudblood," Hermione coughed loudly. "I'm sorry, _muggleborn_, is Head Girl. She doesn't deserve it." Riddle sneered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring Riddle's last statement. She couldn't win that argument, anyways. "He's Head Boy, and even he's not particularly important?"

"Of course," Riddle smirked. "He's dreadfully boring."

"Oh, really," Hermione deadpanned. "Who is classified as important to you, Riddle? I'd like to meet them and congratulate them."

He had her pinned against the wall before she had time to close her mouth. "You, Granger," his breath was doing wonderful things to her body. Goose bumps formed along her arms, and she was sure it wasn't because of the _cold_. "You're interesting."

"Nice try, Riddle," she tried to push him off, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "This type of trick isn't going to work on me. I'm not affected by you."

"Who says this was a trick?" he asked, leaning closer. She closed her eyes, feeling how his breath fanned across her face. Seconds passed, and no contact came. She opened her eyes, only to be met with Riddle's smirking face. He stepped away. She felt the loss of his body heat right away.

"Yes, Granger, you obviously aren't affected by me," he drawled, before heading towards the Headmaster's office. Hermione swore under her breath, and hurried to follow him, though she put some distance between him and her.

_Stupid Hermione! Why do you keep letting him get the upper hand? _

They walked along for a couple more minutes in silence, before Riddle said, surprising Hermione, "Are you afraid of me?"

Hermione was so caught off guard; she looked at him, suspiciously, as if he was asking her a trick question. Riddle, however, never even turned around. "No," she said quietly. It was true. Her father would be the only one in the world she would fear. Riddle was a big bad bully, but she could take him. "Why?"

Unfortunately, before he could answer her question, they arrived in front of the Headmaster's office. "Lemon drops," he said, and then grimaced. "The Old Codger made up the password this time."

Hermione decided that this Dumbledore person seemed to have a lot of people who extremely liked him and who extremely dislike him. She also decided that Dumbledore must be something else to be able to see under Riddle's acting.

Riddle let her up a set of stairs, and Hermione saw two men sitting together. The one who was wearing purple robes and was sitting behind the desk was undoubtedly the Headmaster himself. He played with an empty goblet. She had no idea who the other man with red robes was, until she saw Riddle glare at him.

_Ah. So that's Albus Dumbledore._

"Tom!" The Headmaster, Dippet, greeted enthusiastically. "What brings you here?" He glanced down at the badge pinned on Riddle's robes. "Ah, you accepted the position! Always knew I could count on you." He turned towards Dumbledore cheerfully. "Isn't Tom a great student?"

The tone in Dumbledore's voice clearly implied that he held the same feelings for Riddle as the boy did for him. "Yes, he's simply delightful to have in class," his gaze shifted to Hermione, and she suddenly had a panic attack. What if he recognized her? What if he somehow found out about her father, and her mission?

However, before she could panic too much and giver herself away, Dumbledore smiled gently at her. "You must be Hermione Granger." He said kindly. "Armando has told me of your admission to this school. I look forward to seeing you in transfiguration." His eyes twinkled.

Hermione ignored the cold glare Riddle was giving her, and instead smiled back. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I will try my best."

Dippet nodded, distracted. _He seems to only want to talk to Riddle_, Hermione thought to herself. Riddle wasn't kidding when he said that he had the Headmaster wrapped around his finger. "Now, Miss Granger, if you would please put this hat over your head." He handed her a pointy old hat, not even bothering to stand up and put it on her head personally. He turned to Riddle, and his expression instantly lightened. "Tom! You don't need to stay here. We'll make sure Miss Grangos makes it back to her dormitory safely."

"Granger," Hermione muttered under her breath, but Dippet hadn't seem to have heard her.

"No, it's fine, Headmaster," Riddle said politely. "It is my duty as a Prefect to escort her back to her common room. I would not wish that she gets lost."

Dippet beamed at Riddle. Hermione almost rolled her eyes as Riddle shot the Headmaster a sickening sweet smile. Dumbledore was glancing at him suspiciously, but said nothing. "I'm sure Miss Granger will appreciate that," Dippet said, casting a pointed look at Hermione.

_Who does he think he is, telling me what to do?_ However, Hermione didn't fancy getting kicked out before she even started the school, so she tried to keep the snarl out of her face as she said, "Thank you, Riddle."

Riddle smirked.

She turned back to Dippet before Riddle could make any snide remarks and asked, "May I be sorted now?"

Dippet nodded, but he had gone back to reviewing some papers on his desk, clearly not listening to what Hermione was saying. She grabbed the hat on the table and stuffed it on her head. The last thing she saw before the hat covered her eyes was Riddle's face.

Surprisingly, it didn't have his usual smirk on it.

ஐ

The sorting hat was quiet for the first couple of minutes, leaving Hermione to wonder whether the Headmaster had given her just a plain hat. She clenched her fists, waiting nervously for it to talk to her, and when it finally did, she wished it hadn't.

"Oh ho ho," the sorting hat said, sounding very much like Santa Clause. "I've never sorted one of _his_ children before, and now, in the same day, there are two."

Hermione had been stupid thinking the hat wouldn't know. Of course the hat would know. It knew everything in her head. "Please don't tell anyone," she asked timidly.

"Miss Granger, I am a hat. No one listens to a hat." It paused, and for a second Hermione was worried that it might've retreated into a hole to cry. However, it soon followed up by saying, "Let's worry about getting you sorted now, shall we? First off, do you have any preferences, Miss Granger?"

"Yes," she said. "Please don't put me in Hufflepuff,"

"Wouldn't dream of doing that," the sorting hat told her. "Not only are you not compatible with the house, but I also think you would be in danger if you were. I don't think _he_ would take it too lightly."

"No," Hermione admitted. It was true; her father had some sort of hatred against the Hufflepuff house. She would've expected him to hate Gryffindor, but he seemed okay with that house.

_Maybe it's because Albus Dumbledore was there when he was a student._

Hermione hardly knew anything about her father's personal life. Every time she asked, she would received a dose of Cruciatus. He would tell her what he wanted her to know about his personal life, and if he didn't tell her, she wasn't supposed to ask. However, Hermione highly doubted her father would ever bring up Albus Dumbledore in a conversation any time soon.

_Not unless he wants Dumbledore dead._

"Any other preferences, Miss Granger?"

"No," she said. "I want to be honestly sorted. Don't let any of my thoughts interfere with your sorting,"

"You're scared of being like him, aren't you?" The sorting hat mused, and Hermione was in awe about how easily it could pick through her brain. If only she could stuff the hat on _her father's_ head, and see what happened.

"Miss Granger, not everyone in Slytherin is like him," the hat reminded her gently. "Just because someone is in Slytherin does not mean that they will turn out to be evil, dark wizards,"

_No, but there's a higher probability there._ Hermione's thoughts flashed to Riddle.

The sorting hat seemed to catch her thoughts, and said, "There's also someone there that needs your help as well."

Great. It was going to go all 'Tim' on her now.

"Though, you have wonderful things waiting for you on the other end as well," it mused. "Your friend, Nick, was sorted today. He's in Gryffindor. Can't say I had as much fun sorting him. He seemed to be keen on blocking his mind, and didn't talk to me at all. It was boring."

_Nick's in Gryffindor._

"Maybe I should just go to Hufflepuff," she said meekly. "It would save me a lot of trouble."

The sorting hat made a sound that sounded like a laugh. She couldn't tell. "You may prefer whichever house you want, Miss Granger, but the final decision remains with me. And I've already decided which house to place you in." It paused, and then said, "Remember, Miss Granger. You can only turn evil if you want to,"

Without waiting for her to respond, it opened its mouth loud and wide and screamed out a word.

"_SLYTHERIN!_"


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **I'm on break, so the next chapter should be out faster than normal. Enjoy the fast releases, because it's not going to last.

*Note* None of the characters besides Nick is made up. They are all real characters in the books, though in some instances, first names weren't given, so I took the name of another character in the series and meshed the two together.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

* * *

><p>All Hermione wanted to do was to lie down and sleep. She hadn't slept well the previous night, tossing and turning, too excited to sleep. She had ridden the Hogwarts Express, and though she dozed off a bit, it only slightly quelled her fatigue. Not to mention, she was walking up the stairs to a dormitory in Hogwarts. <em>Hogwarts. <em>Words could not explain how happy she was.

Her mind was in a slightly jumbled state after the sorting hat's decision. She understood that it meant well, and sorted her honestly, but was none of it biased? She had nothing against Slytherin, but she couldn't help but notice that most of the evil wizards came from that house. Did the sorting hat foresee that she would follow her father's footsteps? Did it see her becoming a dark witch?

Hermione had pushed open the door, half dead, when she was met by the sound of shrill giggles. They sounded like Lavender's, except they sounded rather insane. Hermione froze in her tracks; the sound of the girl who had just laughed, it couldn't be—

"Oh my god, Tracey," someone giggled, and Hermione almost groaned. Out of all the rooms she could've been in, why did she have to get this one? The speaker turned towards her, narrowing her eyes. Her friends sat around her. One of them had short, dark hair and was pug-faced. The other girl also had dark hair, though it was more navy colored than brown. She observed Hermione carefully. She did not have disgust in her eyes, but no kindness was present either.

There was one last girl in the room who sat away from the others, reading a book. She had wavy brown hair, and she paid Hermione no mind. _Well_, Hermione snorted. _I'm going to have an easy job making friends here._

"Walburga," Hermione greeted frostily. The girl glared at her. "Aren't I lucky."

Walburga sniffed. "Oh, trust me, you're not the only one angry about this arrangement," she narrowed her eyes. "What did you do? Did you force Tom to let you come here?"

_Try the other way around. _Before Hermione could answer, the pug-faced girl looked up and smiled at her. Hermione was taken aback by her sudden display of kindness. The girl squealed, "Ooh! You know Tom! Tell us about him."

_Ah, not kindness then. _The three girls looked at her expectantly—even Walburga—and Hermione sighed. "Sorry," she said, not sounding very apologetic at all. "I don't know Riddle that well. Why don't you ask him yourself?" Without waiting for them to respond, she dragged her luggage over to the only free bed and plopped herself down.

"You should totally do that, Tracey," Walburga nudged her friend. "You know Tom can't resist your charms."

Tracey frowned, and then turned to her brunette friend. "Violetta," she asked. "What do you do with Cygnus?"

Hermione recognized the name, but kept her eyes shut, trying to block out the sound. It didn't work.

"Cy?" Violetta frowned. "Oh, I don't know. Whatever pops up, I guess…"

The girl obviously didn't want to talk about it, but her friends kept pushing her. Eventually, their shrill voices got the better of Hermione, and she clamped up her ears and curled herself in to a ball. If they said one more word…

"I wouldn't recommend sleeping," an amused voice cut through her thoughts, and Hermione opened her eyes. The girl who had been sitting on her bed, reading a book, grinned at her. "Their voices will keep you up. Might as well do something productive while they're chatting. It saves time."

The girl had a point, so Hermione sat up and ruffled through her robes for her wand. "I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced, looking over. The girl had gone back to her book whose title Hermione couldn't make out.

"Eileen Prince."

Hermione nodded, and left the girl in peace. She waved her wand around, sorting all her belongings onto shelves. She stepped back and looked with a smile; she had always dreamed of having her own bed in Hogwarts. Now it seemed like a dream come true.

"So, tell me, _Hermione_," Tracey drawled, causing Hermione to jump in surprise. Eileen grinned at her, before tucking her book back into her bag and leaning against her bed. She seemed to have decided the conversation was more interesting than her book. "Walburga says that you're quite familiar with Tom and his friends."

_Not this again. Don't they have anything better to do with their time? _"Not familiar," Hermione shrugged. "Acquaintances."

Tracey looked pleased, for some reason. "Is Walburga telling the truth?" she leaned forward eagerly. "Were you really a slave at Abraxas's house?"

Hermione felt irritated, but nodded anyways. Eileen shot her a glance she couldn't interpret. Was she disgusted by her now?

Tracey beamed happily, which was not the reaction she had been expecting. "You're so lucky!" she gushed, and then turned towards her friends. "Isn't she lucky? She got to spend some time alone with Abraxas," she swooned. "I would _die_ to be in that situation."

_Wasn't she just lusting after Riddle seconds ago?_

"_I_ was in that situation," Walburga said, obviously irritated that she wasn't included in Tracey's statement.

"Yeah, but _you_ were hanging out with Gabriel," Tracey shot back, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows Abraxas is the cuter one."

"You're just saying that because he's harder to get," Walburga murmured back.

Hermione almost gagged. _Wait till Abraxas hears about this_, she giggled to herself.

Violetta suddenly turned around, her voice quiet, and asked, "Was Cy there?"

"No," Hermione replied, and quite frankly, she was glad. She knew she wasn't supposed to be making assumptions about a person she just met, but the boy was just plain rude. Just because she wasn't pureblooded didn't mean that he could just treat her like crap.

"That's good," Violetta said, chewing her fingernail. She turned back to her friends, and the three of them began amiably whispering about a topic. Hermione was glad that she no longer was included in the conversation, and picked up her textbooks. She was going to take an official Hogwarts class tomorrow! It was exciting.

"Seems like you'll fit in here perfectly," Eileen said, casting her a sideways glance. "The gossip girls love you already."

"Love is a strong word," Hermione commented dryly. "Gossip girls?"

"Yep. Walburga Black, Tracey Parkinson and Violetta Bulstrode. Hogwarts' very own gossip mill. You'll learn soon enough that they never stop talking. Never." Eileen laughed as Hermione groaned. "The library will be your best friend here. I go there whenever they get too loud."

Hermione nodded. She just wished she could go to the library to sleep. A headache was starting to form, and she gritted her teeth, hoping to make it go away. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"Out of the three of them, the nicest is, by far, Violetta," Eileen was saying. "She and Cygnus are really close friends, and she's the only one that Cygnus opens up to, and trust me, it's harder than it looks. Violetta also has a crush on Cygnus, though I'm pretty sure it's one sided. She does go after Tom sometimes, but I believe it's only to fit ini. Tracey likes to make a big deal out of it though." Eileen cast her a glance. "Just catching you up on the latest Slytherin gossip."

Hermione nodded. "What about Walburga and Tracey?"

"Tracey," Eileen rolled her eyes, lowering her voice so the trio couldn't hear. "You think she's annoying now, right? Oh, this isn't even a tenth of how annoying she is. She just gets lousier and lousier as time goes on." Hermione wanted to cry. "She usually lusts after the Slytherin boys. She and Orion have this special flirty relationship."

_Opinion of Black going down._

"But she mostly goes after Tom Riddle. Walburga does too. Don't ask me how they can tolerate going after the same boy. That's just disgusting in my opinion. I predict an all-out war breaking out in the next couple months."

_Riddle has girls fighting over him, doesn't he? _Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. _I should have guessed._

However, she had to admit, being with Riddle wasn't all that bad now. Of course, she still had hated for what he did to Tim, but he was slowly improving in her eyes. She could now be in his presence without wanting to murder him…much.

Eileen snapped her fingers. "That's right. Tracey said you were a servant at the Malfoy Manor?" Hermione nodded cautiously, not liking where the conversation was going. "How was it?"

"It was good," Hermione said shortly. "Lots of work."

"You mentioned to Violetta that Cygnus wasn't there," Eileen pressed. "Who was there, then?"

Hermione almost rolled her eyes; Eileen seemed to be quite the gossiper herself. "No one that important." She shrugged. "Just a couple of the Malfoy's friends, here and there." Hermione cringed at the weirdness; she had never called Abraxas 'Malfoy' before.

"Like?"

Hermione sighed. "Abraxas and Gabriel, of course. Riddle and Black stayed for a few days as well."

"Black?" Violetta butted into their conversation. "You told me Cygnus wasn't there!"

"He wasn't," Hermione started to feel irritated. Were boys the only things in their lives? This was pathetic. Boys weren't going to help them through life in any way. "I'm talking about his brother, Orion. Why don't you ask Walburga about it? She was there as well."

Walburga glared at Hermione. It seemed like no matter where they were, the girl was never going to stop hating her. Tracey punched her friend in the arm mockingly, laughing. "Walburga was too busy making googly eyes at Avery."

"You met Avery as well?" Eileen inquired curiously. "You pretty much know all the important Slytherins already."

"Yourself included?" Hermione commented dryly.

"Of course," Eileen smirked.

Hermione sighed as Tracey spoke up again. "First thing tomorrow, I'm going to compare my times table with Tom. I hope we have potions together." She turned to Hermione, as if needing to explain herself. "Slughorn is the professor," she said. "Tom is his favorite student, and he lets Tom chooses his seat. He'll choose the seat next to me, obviously."

"So confident," Hermione muttered under her breath, and next to her, Eileen grinned.

"Compare your times table with me, Tracey," Violetta said quietly. "I compared with Cy earlier, and I know which classes that he has with both me and Tom."

"Violetta, you're a life saver," Tracey gushed, and reached for her fancy luggage, shifting through the perfectly folded robes and other stuff. Hermione looked down at her own luggage; aside from the books, everything was scattered.

"What classes are you taking?" Hermione asked Eileen, who was watching Tracey with an amused look on her face.

"Only the necessary ones. Transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, charms, potions, herbology and artihmacy." Eileen tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I think that's it."

"Six," Hermione repeated in disbelief. "That's it?"

Eileen laughed. "I should've guessed you were a bookworm. I'll have you know that most people in the school only take transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, charms, potions and herbology. I decided to take artihmacy and sacrificed my free time." Eileen looked at her. "How many classes are _you_ taking, then?"

"Ten."

Eileen whistled. "You're Tom's competitor, aren't you?" she teased. "He doesn't take Muggle Studies, but takes everything else. What class aren't you taking?"

"Muggle Studies and Divination."

Eileen nodded, and Tracey butt in, once again. "What was that about Tom?" she batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Nothing," Hermione said coldly, at the same time Eileen said, "She's taking a lot of classes, so it guarantees that she has at least one class with Tom."

Hermione glared at Eileen, who just smirked back. Tracey turned her head slowly towards Hermione, and she wondered if the girl was just going to curse her straight outright. However, she turned thoughtfully back to her friends. "That _is_ the bright side to taking many classes," she said. "I'll have more of a chance to be with Tom." She turned to Hermione and did the last thing she expected; Tracey _beamed_ at her. "Thank you, Hermione."

_I have no idea what to make of this girl._

Eileen elbowed her. "Told you they loved you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

ஐ

Hermione ended up skipping breakfast the next day.

She honestly wanted to sit and eat in the Great Hall, but her roommates, Tracey especially, had kept her up. She had simply slept through her alarm clock, and when she woke up, her room was empty. It seemed that none of her roommates, not even Eileen, bothered to wake her up.

_Some 'friends' they are._

She had grumpily pulled herself out of bed, only to realize that class started in five minutes. She hastily got dressed, packed all her books into her handy dandy bottomless pit bag, and flew out of her room. The common room was completely empty—everyone was in the Great Hall, she presumed—but she didn't have time to stop and admire. She was out of the common room in less than a minutes, and flew down the dungeons.

She looked down at her times table. She had potions first, meaning it was a Gryffindor and Slytherin combined class. Hermione hoped Nick would also be in the class. She hadn't had the time to ask him which classes he was taking.

Not to mention, she discovered last night that Riddle was in her potions class, along with Cygnus, Tracey, Violetta and Walburga. _The whole crew. _Eileen had a free, so she would've gone to the library by now.

Hermione got to the potions room seconds later, quite relieved to find it mostly empty. She would've died if she was late on the first day; that would've given the professor a _horrible _first impression of herself.

There was a person tiding up the desk in the front. She assumed that to be Slughorn. _So this is the head of Slytherin._ Hermione thought. _I expected him to be more…malicious looking._

The student's desks were each arranged in groups of three, though only two desks of each row had name tags on top of them. _Is Riddle really allowed to choose his own seat? _Hermione snorted. Of course _Riddle_ would be able to.

Hermione spotted a couple of Gryffindors whispering among themselves on the left side of the room. She didn't recognize them, and when they saw her, they frowned at the color of her robes. She had tried not to feel insulted, and instead turned towards the other end. Abraxas was sitting in his assigned desk, whispering to Black, who was sitting right in front of him. Cygnus was sitting right in front of Slughorn, and when he saw her come into the room, he gave her a look that could've made Riddle himself flinch.

"Hey, Hermione," Abraxas said cheerfully as Hermione approached him. She noted, with relief, that her name was on the tag on the desk next to Abraxas. "I was looking over at the Gryffindor table this morning, but I didn't see you."

"I overslept," she told him, and he grinned easily. "And why would you look over at the Gryffindor table?"

"Why wouldn't I look over there?" Abraxas asked, confused. "You're in Gryffindor, aren't you…" he trailed off as his brain registered the color of her robes. "No _way_. You're in _Slytherin?_"

"Yeah," she slid into the seat next to him. "Why, don't want me here?"

"N-no," Abraxas sputtered. "It's just that, _you_. Slytherin." He turned towards Black, mouth wide. "She's in _Slytherin._"

"Told you Squirtle wasn't as innocent as we all thought," Black replied cheerfully.

Before either Abraxas or Hermione could respond, the professor came bustling over. "You must be Miss Granger! Albus told me about you."

_What could Dumbledore have possibly said about me? He barely met me. _"Nice to meet you, Professor Slughorn," she plastered a huge smile on her face and nodded politely. "Thanks for having me in your class."

"It's no problem, none at all." He clapped his hand together and beamed at her. "Always nice to see new faces." He glanced around the room. "Excuse me, m'dear, but I need to go prepare. Students are beginning to come in, after all." Violetta came in, and hurried to sit down next to Cygnus. The two of them whispered to each other. Walburga and Tracey followed, leaving a desk between them empty.

_For Riddle_, Hermione almost snickered.

"Of course, Professor," Hermione said sweetly. "Don't let me hold you up."

Slughorn gave her one last beam, before hurrying back to his desk.

Abraxas and Black snickered, and she glared at them. "What?"

"That was laying it a bit thick," Black smirked. "That was good acting skills, Squirtle. They might just rival Tom's."

As if on cue, Tracey and Walburga came over, sending flirty winks at the boys. _Seriously, the word 'Tom' is taboo. Say it and they come rushing over._ Abraxas deliberately ignored them by pretending to pick something up from the floor. Black, however, smirked and leaned over to whisper something into Tracey's ears. She blushed and gave him a grin.

_Yuck._

"What is it about Tom?" Walburga asked curiously.

"None of you business," came Abraxas's muffled voice from under the table. Hermione sighed and turned around, just in time to see Ron come into the room. Unfortunately, no Nick followed him. He caught her eye immediately, and noted the color of her robes. He looked sad, but nodded at her. She offered him a small smile in return.

"Abraxas," Walburga was saying. "How's Gabriel doing?"

"Fine," Abraxas said shortly, grabbing something out of his bag. Tracey was sitting on Black's lap, but Abraxas didn't pay his friend any attention. He grabbed something from his bag and poked Hermione. "Hey, look at this."

Tracey shot her a look, though Hermione couldn't tell if it was a warning or a sign of encouragement. She didn't care; she wasn't taking orders from Tracey. Hermione turned around, and was greeted by the sight of a whole bunch of papers.

"Remember this?" Abraxas asked, and showed it to her proudly. Remember she did; it was Abraxas's summer homework. The two of them had spent so much time on it over the summer. It _was_ how she met him.

"Yes," she said, squinting at the name on the top. 'Abraxas Malfoy' was scribbled hastily on the line. "I think you put the wrong name, though. It should be my name up there."

"I think I did more work than you," Abraxas said. "It takes a lot of effort to listen to your long speeches and pick out the important parts, you know."

Hermione crossed her arms. "The whole thing was important."

Abraxas rolled his eyes, only to be promptly socked in the arm by Hermione.

"Ow," he glared at her, and then turned towards Black. "Speaking of summers, Black, you missed it. I took her flying. It was better than the Quidditch games here."

Jealousy surged through Tracey's eyes, and Hermione suddenly wished that she had not chosen to take potions. Black, however, grinned at Hermione and said, "Really? That good?"

Hermione scowled. "It was just me screaming on a broom. Nothing good about that."

"That could be interpreted in so many wrong ways," Black muttered under his breath, and Tracey, who was still fixed on his lap, heard him and blushed. It seemed that he had calmed her down slightly, but Tracey was still glaring daggers at Hermione.

"We should reenact it one day," Abraxas said cheerfully, and Tracey shot her a look of pure jealousy. What was the girl jealous of? She was sitting on Black's lap, for Merlin's sake. And last time Hermione checked, she had been ranting about Riddle, _not_ Abraxas.

"Absolutely not." Hermione said firmly.

Walburga looked like she wanted to butt in—no doubt to take up his offer—but Slughorn clapped his hands loudly. Tracey shot one last hostile look at Hermione—_there goes my friends, _Hermione thought sarcastically—before she and Walburga hurried to their seats. Riddle was still nowhere to be found, though Hermione's suspicions were verified when each row contained exactly two people and one empty desk. _Slughorn really does love Riddle. _

"Hello, hello," Slughorn said joyfully. He looked around the room. "So many familiar faces! I think I've had you all, except for Miss Granger, of course." He smiled warmly at her, causing her face to heat up at the amount of stares she was receiving. "I hope you will all go out of your way to make her stay here pleasurable. Now, on to business…"

The door bang open, and Riddle strode in. If Hermione thought he was popular before, it was _nothing_ compared to his treatment now. Every girl in the room—from both Gryffindor and Slytherin—swooned, with the exception of her. Even the Gryffindors, who usually looked hostile towards Slytherins, showed indifference towards him—some even _smiled_. Slughorn looked delighted to see his favorite student and beamed at him.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor," Riddle said smoothly. "I had to help a first year find his way to the transfiguration room."

"Of course. I always knew you were meant to be a prefect," Slughorn said happily. "Like always, Tom. Please choose a seat."

It seemed to be a ritual; no one looked too surprised by it. The girl next to Black looked rather hopeful, but she kept stealing glances at Walburga and Tracey. It seemed like the two of them were confident, and Tracey scooted her chair in and sent a smile at Riddle.

_Who cares if Riddle goes to sit with them?_

Hermione turned back towards Abraxas, who had his summer homework laying on his desk, and was staring at the situation with an amused expression. He and Hermione shared look, and Hermione leaned over to whisper something to him when she heard someone drop down next to her.

She whirled around and was not only met by the glares of the girls—Tracey and Walburga especially—but a smirk from Riddle. "Hello, Granger," Riddle said silkily, taking out his notes and quill. "Slept well last night?"

_I'm not going to sleep well tonight because of you! _"Fine," she said curtly, not wanting to speak too much and give the other girls the wrong idea. She didn't want to be attacked. "And you?"

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. The other girls clearly thought it was best if she had just ignored him. Well, she wasn't going to do that and risk soiling Slughorn's impression of her. "Fine," Riddle replied, and sat up straight in perfect posture. Hermione almost snorted, but refrained from doing so. Riddle never looked back at her, but kept his eyes politely trained on Slughorn.

_That prick._

"_You_," Hermione hissed in his ear. "Are going to get me dead."

"Not my problem," he replied, smirking.

Slughorn finally realized that his job was to teach students about potions rather than to smile at Riddle, and he clapped his hands together loudly. Tracey threw her one last glare, before stiffly turning to face the professor. Hermione gulped; she was going to get a bed full of cockroaches—or worse.

"Welcome back, welcome back," Slughorn said cheerily. "Please take out your summer homeworks. I will be collecting them for a grade. No, Mister Weasley, you may not do it now," Laughter erupted in the Gryffindor side of the room, and Hermione watched—though blocked by Riddle's body—Ron scratch the back of his head sheepishly. She allowed a small smile, before risking a glance at Riddle's homework.

One word came to her mind.

_Mesmerizing._

His handwriting was perfect. It was even better than her own, something that was quite difficult to achieve. Perfect inked letters blotted his parchment. He caught her looking, and sent her a smirk. "Like what you see, Granger?" he whispered at her. She scowled and turned away, though not before hearing him chuckle in amusement.

One look from Tracey informed Hermione that the girl had indeed heard what Riddle said, and she was after Hermione's blood.

_So much for being 'friends' with her._

Slughorn came around, personally collecting each person's papers. When he got to their row, he made a big fuss out of Riddle's homework, showing it to the class, but turning and smiling at Hermione.

"I'm sure you'll catch up fast, m'dear," he said, winking at her. "I'm sure Tom wouldn't mind helping you." Hermione realized that he probably thought she and Riddle were a couple. Before she could protest, he leaned over and collected Abraxas's homework.

"Not bad, not bad!" Slughorn said happily, examining it. "Mister Malfoy, I always knew you could do it." He took the stack of papers back to his desk and stored them away. Hermione shot Abraxas a triumphant smirk, and Abraxas rolled his eyes.

"We'll start this year," Slughorn rubbed his hands together excitedly. "With the Draught of Peace. Who can tell me what it does?" he looked expectantly at Riddle, as did every other individual in the room. No one else raised their hands, and a pleasant smile crossed Riddle's face as he raised his arm slowly.

_I've lost to Riddle enough times._

Hermione's hand shot up, and she heard collected gasps from throughout the room. She didn't miss Abraxas rolling his eyes, and she stomped on his foot. Slughorn regarded her with interest, beaming positively. Riddle stared at her for a few seconds, before smirking and putting his hand down. The glares from the girls only intensified.

Hermione stared at Riddle, who leaned back in his chair leisurely. He seemed to be challenging her with his eyes.

_Bring it on, Riddle._

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"The Draught of Peace," Hermione began. "Is a potion that helps relieve anxiety. It requires powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, valerian root, and powdered unicorn horn. It should be turquoise blue when finished, and should simmer before being drunk. However, it is said that ironically, this potion is extremely difficult to make. It requires precision, and one small error can cause drastic consequences. If brewed correctly, the potion emits a silver vapor, but if it is not, then the appearance can vary from dark grey steam to green sparks."

Silence was met by her response, and she chewed her lip, suddenly nervous. Was she wrong? Maybe she messed up on one detail while reading about it. However, before she could think about it further, Black started applauding loudly, drawing all attention to himself. Hermione glared at him, and he threw her a cheeky grin.

"You're welcome for the books, Granger," Riddle smirked. On contrary to the girls who figured it was up to them to defend his honor, Riddle looked perfectly content with letting Hermione answer the question instead of him.

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled at him. "You didn't even buy them, Riddle."

Riddle had a smug look on his face nevertheless, though he didn't say anything else. He turned back to Slughorn, ignoring the pity look that Tracey was throwing him. _Why would you pity him?_ Hermione thought bewilderedly. _Nothing bad has happened to him._

"Excellent, Miss Granger! Five points for Slytherin." Slughorn walked around, beaming ear to ear. "Now, who can tell me what is most important to remember about this potion? Miss Granger?" he said, spotting Hermione's hand, which was in the air again. Riddle had a smirk on his face.

"The potion needs to be stirred ten times, both clockwise and counterclockwise. Afterwards, before the final ingredient, hellebore is added, the potion has to be allowed to cool for seven minutes."

"Very impressive, Miss Granger. Another five points for Slytherin." Tracey was now openly glaring at her, though Slughorn remained oblivious. _I'm earning points for our house, why would you be mad at me? _Hermione thought sarcastically.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Riddle whispered softly so that Slughorn could not hear him imitating him. "Very impressive indeed."

Hermione glared at him and he sat, smirking. Why was he so happy? Shouldn't he be angry as the other girls were, because Hermione had 'stole his spotlight?' Or maybe he was happy that she was going to be murdered by his admirers the second she got back into her room. That had to be it. Maybe the librarian would let her camp out in the library tonight.

"Alright, class. Please get started. The instructions are in your textbooks, and also on the board." Slughorn flicked his wand, and white chalk filled the board. After seeing Riddle's handwriting, she was forced to admit that even Slughorn's seemed like kindergarten's writing compared to Riddle's. "As always, everything you need is in the closet. Help yourselves!"

Hermione looked at Riddle, who looked back to her. They came to an agreement, and spun around to face Abraxas. "I vote Abraxas gets the ingredients," Hermione piped helpfully.

"I concur with that," Riddle nodded.

Abraxas stared. "That's not fair."

"Majority rules, Abraxas," she clipped, though she couldn't prevent a smirk working its way up her face. "Go get it."

Abraxas grumbled, and went to get it grudgingly. Hermione giggled softly, but her smile slid off her face when she saw who was coming over to her table. She glanced at Abraxas, wondering if she could join him, but he was with Black and his seat partner, and they seemed to be laughing at something the girl had said. She didn't want to interrupt him, and instead turned back to Riddle, who was smiling pleasantly at Tracey.

"Hello, Tracey," Riddle said, though Hermione was surprised to see no sign of him flirting. Perhaps Tracey was flirting enough for the two of them. "How was your summer?"

"It was awesome!" she gushed happily, motioning for Walburga to hurry over. "I went to Romania with my parents. They bought a house there, and I spent an entire month there. Too bad we didn't have a pool. I really wanted a pool." Tracey pouted.

_Is that how you expect to win boys? Make them feel poor? _Hermione smirked in her mind. Riddle, however, slid forward, his eyes intent on Tracey's. The girl blushed, obviously enjoying the attention Riddle was giving her.

"Romania?" Riddle asked quietly.

"Yes, Romania!" Tracey squealed. "It was sooooo fun, Tom. You should come with us during the Christmas break. Mother and Father love you." She shot Hermione a glare. _Why, does she want me to be jealous that Riddle has already met her parents?_ Hermione thought, amused. _I couldn't care less._

Walburga flounced over. "What about Romania?"

Hermione tuned them out as Abraxas returned with the ingredients, Black and his seat partner engaging in some sort of staring war. The girl introduced herself as Eleanor Bletchey, the keeper for the Slytherin quidditch team. She didn't display any hostility towards Hermione, but that would be hard to do since the girl hardly spoke to her.

"Let me lay down some rules before we start," Abraxas said, glancing towards Riddle. He was still in an intense conversation with Tracey, leaning so close to the girl that her entire face turned red. Riddle, however, was pure business. Abraxas sighed and continued, "It's just my luck that I'm sitting next to the two smartest people in the grade, so I expect to not do any work this year."

"Smartest people in the grade?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Riddle, maybe. How do you know I am? I could be stupid."

"You could be, but you're not." Abraxas replied. "It's the way you answered Slughorn's question. Even that annoying Minnie doesn't answer it _that_ thorough." Catching Hermione's bewildered face, he added, "Minnie, as in Minerva McGonagall. She's been fighting with Tom for top spot for awhile now. Guess she'll be bumped down to third."

"We'll see," was Hermione's response.

After a couple more minutes, in which Hermione began setting up her ingredients and instructing Abraxas what his job was, much to his displeasure. He argued that he learned the fastest by watching, but Hermione would listen to none of that. Finally, when she was wondering just how many words could come out of Tracey's mouth, Slughorn came and shooed her away. She bid a sad farewell to Riddle, who was deep in thought, and threw Hermione another glare.

_She doesn't know when to give up, does she?_

"Riddle," Hermione snapped at him. He regarded her curiously. "Get to work. We don't have all day."

Riddle raised an eyebrow at her flippant tone. "Oh? And what made you the leader of this group?"

"Thank you!" Abraxas said. "She wanted to make me do at least a third of the steps. That's not really fair, is it?"

"No, it's not," he smirked at Hermione. "I would've made him do the whole thing."

It felt good to laugh again.

ஐ

"Excellent, excellent! Splendid effort, everyone." Slughorn said an hour later, walking around. Hermione saw him walk up to Ron's desk, his potion emitting green sparks, and offered words of encouragement. It didn't seem to be new, though, because Ron just joked it off with his friends.

Slughorn walked over to Tracey's potion, and Hermione smirked when he shook his head sadly. Walburga kept glancing at Riddle, but he wasn't even looking. He was staring at the potion, as if checking to make sure everything was a hundred percent correct. Walburga whispered something to Tracey, who breathed a sigh of relief. _Just because Riddle isn't watching you doesn't mean your bad grade just disappears. _

Slughorn stopped before Hermione's row, and beamed down at them. Their cauldron sat on Hermione's desk, and it was bubbling a nice silvery vapor. Abraxas looked worn out; to his defense, she and Riddle _had_ pushed him rather hard, making him do the majority of the work while the two of them supervised. Hermione had almost cursed him when he was about to stir the cauldron one extra time clockwise. She had _thrown_ herself at his hand, and the two of them had ended up on the ground in a rather prominent position. The class had snickered.

_At least I saved the potion, right? _

"Perfect!" Slughorn cried, and Riddle sat there, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Everyone, _this_ is what the Draught of Peace should look like. Good job, Tom, Hermione, Abraxas." He beamed down at the three of them. "Ten points to Slytherin apiece, and on that note, you are dismissed."

He then glanced at Hermione. "Hermione, do you have a moment?"

"Er, now?" Hermione asked. "No. I have class. I can come during my lunch if you would like."

"No, it's alright. I'll write you a letter. Wouldn't want to take away your precious time with Tom here." He winked not so subtly, and Abraxas snorted next to her. Before Hermione could retort, Slughorn rushed over to the other side of the room, where Ron's friend blew up the cauldron, causing the Gryffindors to erupt in laughter.

"He wants to invite you to the Slug Club," Riddle explained, packing his bag neatly and standing up. Hermione followed after him. She saw Tracey packing furiously, determined to catch up with him. "They're pointless, really, but he only invites his favorite students."

"Guess he doesn't have a lot of favorite students," Hermione said. "If I'm one of them."

Riddle smirked, but changed the topic. "What class do you have now?"

"Transfiguration," she watched as Black parted ways with Eleanor and jogged over to meet them. Abraxas departed for Charms. "And you?"

"Transfiguration, my favorite class," Riddle said, a hard edge in his voice. Hermione almost groaned when Black caught up to them and waved his brother over. _Great, another class with Cygnus the grump. _Cygnus nodded politely to Riddle, paid no attention to Hermione, and started a conversation with his brother.

"Dumbledore's not _that_ bad," she teased. Riddle's only response was the darkening of his eyes, and he didn't say anything else. Hermione knew that if he did say something, it would only be insults.

"Hermione!" someone called. Eileen caught up to her and smiled. Books were piled in her bag, and Hermione looked at them in jealousy. She couldn't wait to get to the library later. "Transfiguration?"

"Yep."

"Great. Let's hope Dumbledore puts us together." She glanced over, suddenly realizing Riddle was also standing there. She shot Hermione a quizzical look, before greeting him. "Hi Tom."

"Eileen," Riddle inclined his head politely, and then entered the room after Black. He held the door open for Hermione, and when she stepped inside, her hand accidently brushed against his. One look at him told her he did it on purpose, so she ignored him and stepped around him.

It was an all Slytherin class, and Dumbledore stood in the front, assessing everyone. He offered her a small smile when he saw Hermione, and she returned it. She noticed that, like Slughorn, Dumbledore had put name tags on everyone's desks. It seemed that they were awfully keen on using muggle methods.

Hermione felt her heart drop when she realized who she was sitting next to.

Cygnus.

And judging from the scowl he sent her, he wasn't pleased with the seating arrangement either.

"Good luck, Granger," Riddle smirked, taking his seat next to Eileen in the back of the room. Black sat two rows over, the seat next to him currently empty. Why couldn't she have been in the back as well? Why did she have to be in the front with _Cygnus_?

Life was cruel.

When she trudged herself to the front of the room, Cygnus reluctantly moved his bag over, but only after she managed to trip over the strap at least twice. Cygnus had rolled his eyes not so discreetly, and Hermione had fought the urge to punch him.

The two of them sat stiffly throughout Dumbledore's lecture, a fair distant away from each other. Hermione took notes throughout Dumbledore's lecture—there was something about the way the man talked that made her want to jot down his every word—but Cygnus just sat there. No quill nor parchment was took out. One quick glance around the room informed her that _no one_, aside from her, was taking notes. Even Riddle sat there, no quill in hand, a smirk on his face. He didn't seem to even try playing perfect student in front of Dumbledore. Eileen sat away from him, her arms crosses, eyes staring at the wall. Hermione wondered what happened between them.

"And now," Dumbledore concluded. "After you have listened to my long speech, we will now practice the vanishing spell. Please take three snails from the box up here," he nodded towards his desk. "And use it to practice. Remember, the incantation is _Evanesco._ Now, off to work."

Hermione stood up, and was the first one to reach the box. However, right as she reached in to it, six snails came flying out. She had to duck to avoid getting hit, and whirled around. The culprit sat in the very last row and went by the name of Tom Riddle. Hermione narrowed her eyes; of _course_ he would be too lazy to get up. He smirked at her, before offering three to Eileen. She huffed and snatched them out of his hand without thanking him. Hermione stared at the box, and then grabbed six. She dropped three on Cygnus's desk, and then sat down beside him.

She drew out her wand, when she heard Cygnus say the first words he had said since the lesson began. "Did I ask you to get these for me?"

Hermione frowned. He was almost as obnoxious as Riddle. Who did he think he was, using that type of tone with her? "No, but you didn't have them, and since I was there, I got some for you." Why couldn't he just accept it and move on?

"I didn't ask for these." Cygnus said flatly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and arranged her snails into a line. "If you don't want it, go up and put them back."

Cygnus stood up and did exactly that. Hermione felt her face burn with humiliation. How _dare_ he! She was trying to be nice, and he had to ruin it. Between the outgoing Orion and the moody Cygnus, Hermione couldn't see any similarities. She began to really appreciate Orion.

Hermione tapped her snail, ignoring Cygnus as he sat back down with three new snails. She tried to mimic the wand movement that Dumbledore had shown. "Evanesco." Nothing happened. Next to her, Cygnus rolled his eyes.

Hermione felt fury surge through her, and took a deep breath. She tapped the snail again, and said, "Evanesco." The snail turned paler, but didn't disappear like it was supposed to. This time, a snort left Cygnus's mouth, and Hermione was fuming angrily. _He_ certainly wasn't getting any progress either. Where did he get off laughing at her like that?

"Evanesco," Hermione said for the third time, more forcefully than before. This time, her snail completely disappeared, and she beamed proudly. No sounds came from Cygnus, and Hermione was more than happy to keep it that way.

Dumbledore came bustling over, his eyes twinkling and he smiled down at her. "Now, Miss Granger," he said gently. "Did you lose your snail?"

"No, sir," She replied politely. "I vanished it."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Take ten points to Slytherin." He beamed at her, before moving onto Black's table, where he had managed to turn his snail blue. Her eyes slid over to his seat partner and she almost gasped. Avery sat there, snorting and rolling his eyes, but amusement was written on his face. When he caught her eye, his eyes narrowed in recognition and he scowled.

_Another fan of me._

"Evanesco," Cygnus murmured, jerking his wand. "Evanesco, evanesco,"

"You're doing it wrong," Hermione said, trying to sound gentle, but her voice came out bossy. Cygnus turned his dark eyes towards her, unblinking. "You move your wand like this." She demonstrated, and then looked at him expectantly.

He was silent for a few moments, and Hermione was debating about poking him to see if he was dead or not, but then he said quietly, "Why are you helping me?"

Hermione stared at him. "Because you looked like you needed help?"

"I don't want your help." Cygnus stood up as the bell rang, dropped his snail back into the box, and left the room swiftly. Hermione stared at the spot he had just been sitting in a couple of moments ago. What was his problem? If he didn't want it, or thought she was too bossy, he could've told her nicely.

She stormed over to where Black was sitting. Avery made a face at her, but Black just grinned, levitating his blue snail back towards the box. "What's up, Squirtle? See, I even modeled my snail after you."

Hermione ignored him. "Your brother is a prick." Avery raised his eyebrow at her flippant tone, but Black just laughed, standing up and gesturing for her to walk outside with him. She glanced over at Riddle and Eileen, but the two of them were in a heated debate about something, so she followed Black.

"Cy's quite nice, actually," Black glanced sideways at her as they walked towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. It was the last class Hermione had today, and she couldn't wait until she could go to the library.

"I could tell," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"He doesn't know how to open up to someone he's not comfortable with, though," Black replied easily. "If he likes you, he'll do anything for you."

"How exactly do you get him to like you?" Hermione asked. "Everything I've done has made him hate me even more."

"That is something you need to figure out yourself," Black said thoughtfully. "Want to know how I made him like me? I pulled down his underpants when he was two. We've been inseparable ever since."

Hermione looked at him wryly, but didn't respond.

There was a kind looking woman in the classroom, though her grey hair and wrinkles showed that she wasn't as young as Hermione would've expected for a job that required a lot of demonstration and moving around. "You must be Miss Granger!" The woman said cheerily. Hermione beamed back at her. "It's nice to have you in my class. I'm Professor Merrythought, and I'm your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Please make yourself comfortable."

Hermione nodded politely and looked around, noting that there were no name cards on the desk. Merrythought added, "In my class, you are free to sit wherever you would like. We move around a lot, so the seating arrangement doesn't matter much, anyways. Since this is a mixed Gryffindor and Slytherin class, though, Slytherin usually sit on the right, though there are some cases of house unity."

This was another Gryffindor and Slytherin class? Why was it that the school thought it was proper to put the enemy houses together? Black scowled when Merrythought mentioned house unity, and stalked over to the right side of the room, dropping his bag on a desk in the back.

"Why did you leave without me?" Eileen came into the room, scowling. Riddle followed, looking rather amused. He offered Merrythought a polite nod, and a huge smile broke on the professor's face. He caught the look Hermione was giving him and smirked at her.

_Show off._

"Sorry," Hermione apologized as Eileen sat down next to her. Riddle, no doubt to infuriate her even more, sat in front of her. She scowled as he smirked at her. _What had happened between the two of them? _ "I was too excited to get to class."

Eileen's face softened slightly, but Riddle ruined it by saying, "Of course you were."

Hermione scowled as Abraxas came stumbling in to the classroom. He offered a cheery hello and sat in front of Black. Merrythought bustled over to speak with him while beaming at Riddle at the same time.

Eileen nudged her. "You're a liar."

"What?"

"You said you didn't know them well," she jerked her chin towards the three boys who sat in front of them. Riddle was leaning towards Merrythought with a pleasant smile on his face, and the woman was getting flustered. Hermione rolled her eyes as Black purposely leaned closer. _Really, flirting with the teacher? Why do I even put up with them? _

"I don't," Hermione watched, thoroughly disgusted, as even Abraxas leaned back to join in on the conversation. She knew he had a policy about dating, but flirting didn't fall into that category, did it? Suddenly, Hermione was struck with how little of Abraxas she actually knew.

"Doesn't seem like it." Eileen said, looking at her. Hermione quickly shifted her eyes away. Why would she care if they were getting friendly with the teacher? It certainly wasn't her problem. Minerva McGonagall chose that moment to walk into the room, chatting with her friend. Her friend had hair so red she could've easily been a Weasley. Surprisingly, when Minerva saw Hermione, she motioned her friend to sit down and headed towards the Slytherin section of the room.

"Hi," she said stiffly, glancing at Riddle. He met her gaze coolly, before resuming his conversation with Abraxas. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm-"

"Minerva McGonagall, the prefect." Hermione nodded. "Of course I remember you."

Minerva looked rather flattered. "I know you're in Slytherin, and Gryffindor and Slytherin don't usually get along, but if you need help, don't hesitate to ask me." Her eyes softened slightly, and Hermione finally saw her as a regular teenage girl rather than a rigid old woman.

Riddle finally turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that I can't handle my own house, Minerva?" he asked softly.

"I am doing no such thing, Tom." Minerva harrumphed. "I'm just telling Hermione that if she ever needs a girl to talk to, I'm here for her."

"That's why there are two prefects for each house," Riddle drawled. "One boy and one girl. I see no need why she has to confide in _you_."

Minerva opened her mouth, anger etched on her face, but Hermione interrupted her. "Shut up, Riddle." She told him, and he smirked at her and held his hands up. She turned back to Minerva and said, "Thanks for your offer. I really appreciate it."

Minerva nodded once, threw a nasty glare at Riddle, and promptly turned on her heels and stalked off. "Bye Minnie!" Black called. Minerva looked around, noted that Merrythought was still deep in conversation with some other Gryffindor, spewed a very nasty word out of her mouth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Black said, eyes wide. He dramatically placed his hand to cover his open mouth. "Who would've guessed that Minnie had a vocabulary like that?"

Hermione felt a little sympathy towards the girl."She did nothing to you," she informed Black coolly. "Leave her alone."

Black eyed her. "Oh no, you're not mad at me, are you? Squirtle's mad at me," he turned towards Abraxas and fake cried. "What am I ever going to do?" Merrythought had reappeared and was watching Hermione with interest. She had never wanted to punch Black more.

"Squirtle?" Eileen asked curiously.

"He thinks I'm short, so I'm a squirt. Apparently squirt sounds similar to Squirtle," Hermione explained. "Don't ask me to explain Black's logic. It used to be Shortcake."

"You _are_ short."

Hermione crossed her arm. "We've been over this. No, I'm not."

"You're easily the shortest person in this room."

"Am not,"

"Are too,"

"Shut up, Black."

"Make me, Squirtle."

"I somehow can't take him seriously when he calls you that," Eileen murmured.

"I can't never take him seriously," Hermione rolled her eyes.

Black gasped dramatically. "Be nice."

"I _am_ nice."

"Guys?" Abraxas interrupted them. He nodded at Hermione, who glared at him angrily for interrupting her feud with Black. "Hermione, there's someone here to see you." Riddle tensed up as he looked at the person behind her. Eileen turned around curiously as well. Slowly, Hermione turned herself around and saw a flash of blue. That was all the clarification she needed. She stood up quickly, the chair scraping the floor loudly. Merrythought looked up from where she was talking to Minerva and her friend, smiled, and made her way over the Slytherin side. However, before anyone could do anything, Hermione threw herself into his arms, almost knocking him down.

"Hi to you too," Nick said, spinning her around slightly. Hermione saw Eileen narrow her eyes at the color of Nick's robes. "How's your day so far?"

"It's good," Hermione said breathlessly, stepping back. His blue eyes twinkled as he stared down at her, a smile on his face. "I earned thirty points so far."

"I haven't earned one," Nick said, shrugging indifferently.

"That's not good," Hermione said. "You need to make sure to raise your hand in class. Most teachers give at least five points for a correct answer, and even if you're wrong, there's always next time, right? Don't tell me," Hermione's eyes grew wide. "You didn't answer every question wrong, did you?"

"Oh, I forgot, because to you, that's the worst thing that can happen," Nick rolled his eyes. "Relax. I haven't raised my hand yet, so I have a perfect record."

Hermione crossed her arms. "That's not much better."

"Not everyone can be a genius like you, Hermione." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I want to talk to you privately sometime. Want to meet somewhere?" Hermione nodded. "Astronomy tower at one?"

"Don't you need your beauty sleep?" Nick teased. "You need to be up fresh tomorrow, don't you? You don't want to oversleep _again_."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I won't be getting much sleep tonight anyway." She told him. "My roommates aren't particularly happy with me right now, so I'm not going to go to sleep in front of them. Who knows what things I might find on myself when I wake up."

"You've managed to piss them off already?" Nick snorted. "Bravo."

"So, is it okay?" Hermione said, deciding to raise her voice above a whisper. If they kept talking softly, people would start to suspect something. More and more students piled into the room, and they were regarding the two of them with curiosity. It wasn't often that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor were civil towards each other.

"Of course," Nick replied, reaching towards her and squeezing her hand reassuringly. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Riddle tense up at the contact, but she pushed that thought out of her mind. "I'll see you around,"

With one last nod, he turned around and headed towards the Gryffindor side of the room. Hermione watched him go, before sliding back into her seat. Eileen nudged her. "Spill."

Hermione looked at her. "What?"

"You. Him." Eileen made a little heart with her hands.

"Don't be silly," Hermione chortled. "He's my best friend."

"Just because you're best friends doesn't mean you can't be in love," Black sang. To prove his point, his glanced towards Abraxas, wiggling his eyebrows. Abraxas rolled his eyes, but grinned at his friend nonetheless. Riddle, however, was still staring at her. Hermione couldn't tell if he was angry or indifferent, and she suddenly felt compelled to explain.

"He's my half brother," she added. "It feels kind of weird being anything but friends with him."

"He's your half brother?" Eileen asked, staring back and forth. "I couldn't tell."

"Well, obviously he wasn't born with blue hair."

Eileen looked like she wanted to say something else, but Merrythought chose that moment to clear her throat loudly. Abraxas turned around and shot Hermione a look, and she knew she had a lot of explaining to do.

ஐ

"This is awesome."

"Calm down, Squirtle. No need to wet your knickers," Black said, earning him a glare. "We eat here three times a day. You learn to get used to it."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," Hermione looked around in awe. The ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside, as she read in Hogwarts, A History. Still, not even the book could've prepared her for this. What a sight! It was truly a beautiful piece of magic.

She looked towards the staff table. Dippet sat with Dumbledore, Slughorn, and two other professors. Hermione guessed they were the Heads of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Merrythought was sitting two tables down, leaning into a male professor that Hermione had never seen before. Merrythought blushed and giggled, reminding Hermione of a teenage schoolgirl.

_Speaking of schoolgirls…_

Hermione glanced at Riddle, who was sitting across from her. Tracey almost sat on top of him, and Walburga leaned into his arm from the other side. The idea of Riddle in a threesome revolted Hermione so much she almost threw up all over Black. He looked at her amused, before returning to his conversation with Abraxas.

She had met Lestrange, another one of Riddle's lackies. Like Avery, the boy had also been held back a year. _Riddle chooses all the stupid ones, eh? _Hermione thought to herself. _Maybe that way, it would prevent them from having the brains to rebel against him._

Crabbe and Goyle were another two Slytherins who Hermione was unfortunate enough to meet. They were both extremely slow, and Hermione wouldn't be surprised if they were the next Avery and Lestrange.

She had been introduced to some of the Quidditch players, and some other 'friends' of Riddle, but she could only remember names and faces, not being able to put them both together. She had eventually given up, but she spent all dinner getting stared at by people who she didn't know the names to.

"Cy," Black called over Hermione. She had been unlucky enough to be sitting next to Cygnus, but he had been focused on talking to Violetta, so he had ignored her the whole time. It was better that way. Cygnus turned towards his brother, his eyes hardening when he saw Hermione. Gritting her teeth to control her anger, she moved out of the way so the two brothers could talk.

"Did you ask Mother about the Hogsmeade permission slip?"

Cygnus nodded curtly. "She owled it to me yesterday. It's in my dorm. I'll give it to you tomorrow."

Black shook his head. "Keep it, just don't lose it before the trip."

"I won't." Cygnus turned back around to Violetta, who was waiting for him. Cygnus said something, causing the girl to giggle. Hermione hadn't seen the girl giggle like that, even when with Tracey and Walburga. She had forced some laughs, sure, but it never reached her eyes.

"What's Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked Black curiously. It sounded familiar, though she couldn't place a finger on where she heard it before.

"Something Squirtle doesn't know? The world is ending," Black grinned as she punched him in the arm. "Hogsmeade is a village close to Hogwarts. There's a lot of stores and students are allowed to go on weekends. Though, if two people go to Hogsmeade together, it often starts rumors that the two of them are in a relationship." He nudged Abraxas, who was sitting next to him. "Want to go with me?"

"In your dreams, Black," Abraxas stuffed another chocolate marshmellow into his mouth. "Go ask Eleanor. I'm sure she'll go with you."

"Aww, but you know I don't love her like I love youu," Black cooed, leaning towards Abraxas with his hands outstretched. A disgusted look crossed Abraxas's face as he pushed his friend away, though was unable to prevent a grin from appearing on his face. Hermione giggled at the sight; the two of them really were close.

Suddenlly, Black flew back into her, and she was knocked sideways. Unfortunately, she bumped into the person sitting next to her, which happened to be Cygnus. To make matters worse, he had been drinking out of his goblet, and the liquid inside covered both him and Violetta. Violetta squealed and jumped up, dabbing a napkin at her robes. Cygnus stood up as well, and assisted her out of the Great Hall, but not before glaring at Hermione. She sighed.

Tracey and Walburga didn't even look up as their friend rushed out of the Hall to go and clean her robes. _Some friends they are. _Riddle, however, smirked at her. He obviously was not paying too much attention to what the two girls were doing to him, and Hermione had to admit that they were stupider than she thought. Did they not notice that Riddle was not responding, or were they just trying to ignore it?

"Nice job, Squirtle," Black snorted. "Real smooth."

He had been the reason why this incident had occurred, but Hermione was too tired to tell him that. She stood up abruptly, and began packing her bag. The grin slid off Black's face, and for once, he looked at her seriously.

"Did I offend you?" He asked. "I'm sorry. You don't need to leave."

Hermione blinked at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with Black?" she asked, slightly relieved when his trademark smirk returned. "I promised Eileen I would meet her in the library." _And I need to prepare to go meet with Nick._

"See you then, Squirtle," Black waved cheerfully at her. Abraxas nodded, and resume his conversation with Eleanor. "Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow at ten. Don't be late."

"Nice try, Black," she called at, and he grinned at her. As she headed out of the Hall, she snuck a glance at the Gryffindor table and saw Nick looking right at her. He tilted his head questioningly.

"Library," she mouthed.

Nick rolled his eyes, but grinned. He shooed her away. Ron, who he was talking to, noticed Hermione and offered her a small smile. Hermione knew that he didn't feel comfortable talking to her because she was in Slytherin, but she was grateful for these small gestures.

It wasn't until she got out of the Great Hall that she found it.

Later, when she tried to recall the memory, she could never remember why she did it. She couldn't remember what had tempted her. Her wand was in her pocket, but she didn't need to pull it out at that moment. Whatever the reason, Hermione had decided to stick her hands in her pocket, slightly surprised when her hand brushed against a small slip of paper.

She pulled it out and read it under the castle torches, the seven words printed on the sheet causing her to freeze and her brain to stop working.

_I know your secret. I'm watching you._

_**To Be Continued…**_


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Remember when I said that I was going to update faster? Well, I lied. Turns out my break is three days shorter than I originally thought (no, I'm not on summer vacation. It's spring break.) so the next chapter will come out next Friday unless I miraculously have no homework this coming week. Not to mention, this chapter came with a huge writer's block, and it kind of lowered my motivation to write…oh well, it should come back soon.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

Thanks for reviewing and reading my story. You guys are the best!

Zombie Reine, Chamilia Lutien Tinuviel, voldyismyfather, CathyCullen16, Red Sphinx, Vanilla Sensation, Angellwriter, Anon, Once Upon A Time I Died

* * *

><p>"Nick!"<p>

Nick turned around and placed a finger to his lips. Hermione immediately clammed up. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the nearest classroom, locking the door nonverbally behind them and placing a few spells on it. Hermione heard footsteps pound by outside, stopping briefly in front of them, before it walked past.

Hermione breathed heavily as Nick sat down easily on one of the desks. Hermione didn't recognize the classroom, which was extremely rare. "Sorry about that," Nick said. "Ron told me at dinner that they have prefects checking to make sure everything is in order, and then there's Filch. I didn't know about them before. I would've picked a better place to meet."

"Filch?"

"Caretaker. To prevent kids like us from sneaking out in the middle of the night."

"Sounds annoying."

Nick snorted. "You obviously haven't seen him yet. He's obsessed with his cat. Awkward moment when you stumble upon the two of them in an empty hallway." He looked at Hermione. "He seems to like your friend, though, so maybe you can use him to get some brownie points for us."

"My friend?"

"Yeah." Catching Hermione's puzzled face, he added, "What was his name? It had something to do with jokes…"

"Riddle?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Riddle," Nick nodded, and Hermione almost groaned. _Of course it would be him_. "Though, it looked like flirting on his part." Nick glanced at her. "You sure he doesn't swing that way?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," Hermione snapped at him. "If you're so interested in him, go ask him yourself."

Nick eyed her warily. "Are you okay?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm just stressed. Riddle's being annoying, like always, and I…I got a note." She admitted, peeking at Nick. His face was expressionless. "I think I'm being stalked."

She waved the tiny slip of paper in front of his face, and he took it, frowning. He read it, and then sighed. "I thought as much."

Hermione stared at him. "What?"

Nick lowered his voice. "There's another spy here. For your father."

Hermione was shocked. Why was she not clued in about this? "How do you know?" she asked him suspiciously. If this was Nick's idea of a joke, she was going to punch him…or worse. "You don't even work for him anymore."

"I got a note the first day as well," Nick said easily. "The person plain out stated it."

"Can I see the note?"

"No."

"No?" Hermione looked at him angrily.

"I burned it."

Hermione stared at him, her mouth wide open. "You _burned_ it? Are you _crazy_? That was important evidence! Why didn't you turn it into Dippet?"

"Because Dippet is perfectly capable of doing something about it," Nick snorted. "He'd probably ask who Grindelwald is."

Hermione ignored him. "Why didn't you turn it into Dumbledore then? I'm sure he could've traced it or at least gotten-"

"Hermione, not everything is black and white," Nick shook his head. "Have you ever thought about what would happen to _you_ if the spy were to get caught and report you as well? He or she obviously knows about your background. You would get arrested if the person decided to talk."

Hermione crossed her arms. "You shouldn't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can," Nick looked at her. "I'm not going to sacrifice you for some pesky spy who won't even gather the courage to meet me face to face. We're not even sure how big of a threat they are. Wait it out. I'm not just going to turn you in." Nick paused. "You know you're worth more to me than that."

Hermione stared him down. She knew he meant well, but right now, her wellbeing wasn't the problem. "It doesn't matter. You still should've turned it in."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Fine, if I ever receive a note again, I'll _consider_ giving it to Dumbledore." He eyed her. "Take it or leave it, Hermione. You're not going to get anything better."

"Fine." Hermione scowled at him.

Nick nodded. "Alright, down to business then." He checked the clock on the wall. "We have approximately thirty minutes to talk before I have to go back into the common room." He grinned at her. "That is, unless you want to set a public image that we're doing naughty things."

"We _are_ doing naughty things," Hermione pointed out. "Just not in that context. It wouldn't have worked, anyways. I told them you're my half brother, though Black is convinced we still can share a romance."

"I like the way his mind thinks," Nick grinned, but then a serious expression replaced it. "You seem to trust your friends a lot."

"Do I?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I only told them that we're related. I didn't think it was that bad."

"Yeah, well, they'll want to know how we're related," Nick snorted. "And then you'll eventually tell them that we share the same dad. And then they'll want to know who our dad is. What are you going to say? My dad is the biggest threat in the world right now, and he's going around killing mass numbers of people. He goes by the name of Grindelwald. Have you heard of him?"

"Shh!" Hermione glanced nervously at the door. "Not so loud!"

"Don't worry," Nick said easily. "I cast _Muffliato_ before. They can't hear us."

Hermione scowled at him. "Someone who's able," _Riddle. _"who's curious enough," _Riddle. _"and who has permission to walk around at night," _Riddle_. "might've heard." She glared at him pointedly.

Nick eyed her warily. "Alright, I get your point. Why do you hang out with him? You don't seem to like him much."

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend." Nick replied easily. "The infamous Tom Riddle. You know, if you're just doing it to piss someone off, you better stop. You're picking the worst person possible. There's going to be girls after your blood from all four houses."

"I know that," Hermione glared at him. "Riddle's not my boyfriend. And if I wanted to piss someone off, I have more effective methods. _And,_ for your information, most of the girls already hate me."

"Yeah, I know. Potions, right?"

Hermione stared at him. "Are you stalking me now?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Nick grinned at her. "Gossip actually travels between houses pretty fast. It does help, of course, that Ron himself seems to like talking about you. He said that Riddle sat down next to you, and rejected the beautiful Tracey Parkinson?" He caught Hermione look at him. "Hey, its Ron's words, not mine."

"Beautiful?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Ron's a sucker for girls," Nick shrugged.

"Yeah, Riddle sat next to me." Hermione mumbled. "I don't know what he's playing at. I think he's just trying to get me killed. Or get information of me. Or a combination of both."

Nick looked amused. "And it never crossed your mind that maybe he was attracted to you?"

"Riddle's not attracted to anyone, and I am _certainly _not attracted to him." Hermione frowned. "Even if I did have feelings for him, I don't think I would ever go out with him, even if I did have the chance."

"Why not?" A smirk crossed Nick's face. He was clearly enjoying himself.

"He's too smart," she said. "And curious. He likes to know stuff. And this," Hermione gestured between the two of them. "Is something he wants to know badly. Can you imagine me being with someone who interrogates me every day? He even tried to cast the Imperius on me."

Nick looked at her angrily. "He used an Unforgivable on you? I could report him."

"Don't. He didn't get anywhere." _Plus, if you take it to Dumbledore, Riddle would get expelled. And I made a promise to Tim. _

Nick's eyes softened. "Are _you_ alright?" he asked gently. "Did the memories come again?"

"Yeah." Hermione frowned. "They were different this time, though. I killed him in my hallucination, but I ended up casting it in real life too."

Nick's eyes widened. "You didn't…hurt anyone, did you?"

"No. I just gave Abraxas a scare." She shrugged. "I think Riddle is starting to suspect something as well. He underestimated me, after all. Did you know," she said haughtily. "I went through his Cruciatus without screaming?"

Nick stared pointedly at her. "You're the only one in the whole world who would brag about that."

"Maybe because I'm the only one in the whole word who _can_ brag about that?"

Nick shook his head. "You need to pretend to be vulnerable. You already look suspicious enough. A transfer student is rare. It would look even more suspicious if some random mountain lion appeared out of nowhere."

"Who are you calling mountain lion?"

Nick ignored her. "Does he know anything? Have you shown him anything?"

"Not that much. I tried to hold back when he randomly curse me." Hermione shrugged. "The only thing he saw was me knocking out a bunch of old men in the back alley. It wasn't that big of a deal."

Nick snorted. "You seem to think that normal girls can do that,"

"They were old men, Nick. Old men do not have the same stamina that we do."

Nick sighed, rolled his eyes, and then glanced at the clock. "I have to go," he told her regretfully. "But be careful, alright? Don't let Riddle fool you. Try to pretend to be vulnerable. Riddle will have no reason to attack you if you're not suspicious." He glanced at her worriedly. "Take care of yourself, Hermione."

"I'll try."

It turned out that it was easier said than done.

ஐ

Hermione's first week at Hogwarts passed by quickly, and rather successfully. She had discovered, rather annoyed, that she and Riddle shared every class but Charms. That meant she had to suffer through his annoying smirk for _hours_ a day, not to mention, he often went to the library at the same time as her. He often did his homework next to her, spent five times less time and effort and yet he still managed to get better grades than she did.

This caused more annoyance from the other girls, and Tracey went out of her way to make Hermione feel terrible. Hermione would wake up every morning with her face covered in green goo, though she hadn't minded. If that was the worst thing that Tracey could do to her, then it was fine with her. The girl didn't seem to have enough guts to do anything worse than glare while Hermione was awake.

This also helped her bond with Eileen. While she still considered Abraxas, and maybe even Black and Riddle, better friends than Eileen, Hermione was grateful to have a girl companion. Despite claiming otherwise, Eileen was quite informed on what went on in the school. Her daily gossips from Tracey ended the second Riddle sat down next to her in potions, and she sure wasn't going to go ask Abraxas, Black or Riddle the latest gossip.

She and Nick hadn't met again, but they often mouthed things to each other from across the Great Hall. Riddle would often notice and scowl, but what she did was really none of his business. They were just mouthing to each other. To be honest, if he wanted her to mouth things to him, he could've just asked; she would've done it, mainly to piss Tracey off.

Hermione had been excited to start learning in every class, though to her disappointment, every teacher had spent at least a good ten minutes of each class lecturing the importance of OWLs. She had already learned most of it from books, so she wanted to move on to more practical things. However, most of the class seemed perfectly fine with the slow pace that the teachers were going at, so she had no choice but to sit through the lectures.

To Hermione's displeasure, Riddle had one more OWL than she did, and she had no doubt he would achieve an 'O' on every subject. That thought displeased her, and whenever she ranted about it, Abraxas would roll his eyes and tell her to lighten up. Everyone else wouldn't have even spent the time to listen to her. Black just ran away whenever she got that angry look on her face, and she couldn't exactly rant to _Riddle_ about it; he was smug enough already.

Abraxas and Black had Quidditch practice starting, and they spent most of their time at the pitch. She would tag along, but they would often be talking to Avery, Lestrange, or Eleanor, and she felt awkward being around them. As time progressed, out of the three 'friends' she had made before she got to Hogwarts, the one she spent the most time with ended up to be Riddle. Hermione guessed it was because he went out of his way to make sure her life was miserable, and the classes they shared didn't help either. However, even though he was an insufferable prick, she found that she could maintain an intelligent conversation with him, something that was hard to do even with Nick. He was enjoyable to talk to until he started making snarky comments.

Ron played Quidditch as well, and she would watch him sometimes. Minerva played as well, something Hermione was rather surprised by. She had never pictured her to be a flying type. Hermione herself showed up to most of the Gryffindor practices, not for the Quidditch—as Black accused her of rooting for the other team—but because Nick would often show up as well. Black and Abraxas sometimes tagged along, hiding in the bleachers and spying on their rival team. Riddle, however, seemed to have no interest in the sport and never turned up, something Hermione was grateful for. The last thing she wanted was her only free time with Nick to be interrupted by Riddle's presence.

She had done the best she could to stay away from Cygnus, but found out that there was more to him than met the eye. As it turned out, he was _also_ in Hermione's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, though when she questioned Black why he wasn't there the first class, Black said he was sworn to secrecy. Cygnus still glared at her whenever they met each other's eyes, but she did her best to be nice to him. She was rewarded with scowls.

And then there was Riddle and his fishy group. She had walked in on them meeting once; she had only seen Riddle, sitting high and mighty on a chair. The rest of them bowed around him. She had accidentally squeaked, and everyone turned around to face her. She was sure that none of them—other than Riddle—saw her face, and the only faces she saw were Avery and Lestrange. She had hoped that Black and Abraxas weren't in the group, but judging by everything that had happened, they probably were. She fled before Riddle could open his mouth, mind whirling on possibilities about what the group was for.

Riddle had confronted her about it, but she had always told him she didn't know what he was talking about. He was suspicious, but he seemed relieved that Hermione hadn't run off to tell anyone. However, that didn't stop him from wanting to get the information. In public, he was still the charming young man, but whenever they were alone, his mask came off. He had cornered her once, wand pressed against her neck. It seemed like his little group was more important than he let on. The only reason why Hermione had left unscathed was because Slughorn came bustling down the hallway, saving her. However, even that came at a price. Hermione soon learned that Slughorn had spread the rumor that she and Riddle were snogging in an empty hallway. If the girls hadn't wanted to murder her before, they definitely wanted to now. From then on, she tried to avoid going to class early, and whenever she went to the library, she dragged Nick with her. Riddle never had a chance to be alone with her after that incident, and after awhile, he seemed to forget about it and go back to his snarky self.

Hermione almost let herself believe that she could be a regular student here, and that she could forget about her past and live in Hogwarts peacefully. Of course, she wasn't normal, not with her background. But one could try, couldn't they?

If only Riddle made it that easy for her.

ஐ

"Where's Eileen?"

"In the dorm," Hermione said irritably, looking around. The only free seats were next to either Riddle or Cygnus, and the withering glare from the latter informed Hermione that she didn't really have a choice where she sat. _Plus, Riddle can't really do anything in a classroom. He wouldn't risk soiling his perfect reputation. _"She's sick."

"Perfect."

Hermione stared at him like he had grown two heads. "Perfect?" she repeated. "What exactly, Mister Riddle, is _perfect_?"

A smirk and a, "You'll see," was all she got from him.

Merrythought clapped her hands loudly, looking around the room. "This is great. Since Miss Eileen is out—send my regards to her, Miss Granger," Hermione nodded. "We have an even number of people in the class. Please pair up to duel each other, though there's more Gryffindors, so one group will have to pair up with the opposite house."

Hermione frowned and nudged Abraxas, who was sitting in front of her. "Dueling?" she whispered. "Isn't that dangerous?" She resisted looking over at her seat partner, but an amused snort from him told Hermione that Riddle knew she was referring to him.

"No dangerous spells, of course," Abraxas said, though he glanced pointedly at Riddle. The latter met his gaze evenly. "Most of the students here aren't advanced enough anyway. You'll see a couple stunners at most." Abraxas sighed. "It amazes me that we're all fifth years."

"Each pair goes up," Black added. "And everyone stares at them. It's awfully intimidating."

Abraxas nudged him. "Stop it. You're scaring her."

"Scared? Squirtle?" Black gasped. "What are you talking about? Squirtle is fearless."

Chatter had taken over the room, and Merrythought had to clear her throat multiple times to get the class's attention. "Please pick your partner now. You have five minutes to organize yourselves, and then I will be calling the groups up in random order." She cleared her throat again. "Please note that this will be counted as a grade. Do not pick a partner that will drag you down."

Hermione cursed Eileen for being out. She picked the wrong day to get sick. The girl had seemed fine last night. Did she somehow know that they were dueling in DADA, and purposely got sick? She would have to investigate that later.

Riddle turned towards her. "Granger, want-"

Hermione flew out of her seat before he could finish his sentence, nearly knocking Riddle out of his. He scowled, but she didn't stay to hear what he responded. "Nick!" she called out, and the Gryffindors looked surprised—if not displeased—that a random Slytherin girl was talking to one of their own. Nick, however, nodded quickly and stood up, leaving behind a rather disgruntled Ron.

Riddle didn't look pleased, openly scowling at her when Merrythought turned around.

"Listen," Nick whispered in her ear. "Here's the plan. I'll count to three, and then we cast a stunner. And then we'll both drop our wands. Got it?"

Hermione nodded, but couldn't resist adding, "I think you're just doing this because you can't beat me in a real duel, so you have to come up with this elaborate plan."

"You flatter me," Nick snorted. "You call that elaborate?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but looked away. Riddle, still scowling, had paired up with Abraxas, who looked equally pleased about the arrangement. Cygnus was talking quietly with Black, and some girls near them were squealing loudly about seeing the brothers battle. Black seemed to enjoy the attention, winking at them, but Cygnus barely acknowledged them at all. Hermione had never met twins any more different.

Hermione wondered why Abraxas paired up with Riddle. She knew there were more than enough Slytherin girls who would be willing to pair up with both of them.

_Maybe he was forced to._

Judging by Abraxas's face when he thought Riddle wasn't looking, Hermione was correct.

Abraxas turned around and gave her a death glare. He seemed to have expected her to save him by teaming up with him. If Nick weren't there, her next choice would be Abraxas. However, since Nick was there, she stuck her tongue out at Abraxas, and he scowled at her. She was grateful that for once, she didn't have to be put with Riddle.

"Hey, Hermione," It was Ron, dragging a brown hair guy behind him. He was about Hermione's height, and she recognized him as the person who had blown up his cauldron in Potions. He offered her a sheepish grin. "This is Seamus Finnigan."

"Hiya," Seamus said easily. "You're the smart bookworm from Potions."

Hermione knew she should be offended, but she somehow felt prideful. She was already establishing a rather good reputation in this school. Who cared if she was a bookworm? At least some people thought she was smart. "And you're the guy who blew up his cauldron."

"Heh," Seamus said, scratching the back of his head. "I can't help it. I'm accident prone." He looked at Ron. "Remember the time during second year when I exploded my cauldron in my face?"

Ron grinned at him. "Which time?"

The two of them launched into a conversation of their history. Nick and she exchanged looks, and shrugged. "I would suggest talking about _our_ history, since it's undoubtedly longer and more interesting than theirs," He grinned. "But I think it'd scare them a bit."

Hermione snorted. "That's an understatement."

Nick bent down and whispered to her, "Remember the time when he locked me in a closet for nine days because I stole the Elder Wand from him?"

"SHH!" she hissed, looking around. Thankfully, no one seemed to have heard his comment, but Riddle narrowed his eyes at her random outburst and her proximity to Nick. She scowled back.

Nick smirked, and then turned back to his friend. "Yo, Ron," he called, and Ron and Seamus halted their conversation. "What is the sheet Black is handing out?"

"The Slytherins started a tradition where they bet on who's going to win the duels," Ron said. "Merrythought doesn't approve of it, of course, but she doesn't stop it either." Ron shrugged. "I think she secretly bets as well."

"What do you get if you bet correctly?" Hermione questioned.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "There's a fifty-fifty chance you'll get it right, Hermione. That's a high probability. You just get to win, of course."

"Booring." Nick yawned.

"When Tom's dueling, though, everyone in the class automatically wins," Seamus added. "Tom's never lost a duel before."

_Yeah, can't imagine him losing anything._

Before Hermione could respond, a piece of paper was thrust in front of her face. "Squirtle," Black said, appearing out of nowhere. Cygnus trailed behind him, a scowl on his face. Black forced the paper into her hands. "You'll bet on me, right?"

"I don't know," Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I might bet on Cygnus."

As expected, Cygnus said darkly, "Bet on me and die."

Nick rolled his eyes as Cygnus and Black moved onto the next pair. "That one likes you a lot."

"_No_, is it that obvious?" Hermione said sarcastically.

Still, she placed her bets. She _had_ been with these people for a week, after all, and she more or less knew their strengths. The one she had the most trouble with was the Gryffindor Prefect. She looked over at Minerva, who was whispering with her friend, Lily. Minerva was better at transfiguration, but Lily was better all around. Hermione gnawed at her lip, and then chose Minerva. Maybe she would transfigure Lily into something early on. She didn't feel comfortable with choosing someone she had never spoken to.

Hermione circled her final name when Ron came back. "There are three highly anticipated duels," he said, eyes twinkling excitedly. Hermione had only seen him this excited when it came to Quidditch. "The usual two: Cygnus and Orion, and Tom and Abraxas." He glanced at the Slytherin side of the room. "And then there's the battle between you two."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Us?"

"Yeah, no one knows your strengths, so it's impossible to bet," Ron shrugged. "They know that Hermione is smart, but smartness and dueling skills are often very different." He glanced towards Nick. "And they know you're a blue haired lazy bum who doesn't do any work."

Nick smirked. "So, who did _you_ bet on, Ron?"

Ron looked uncomfortable and shifted around. "I-er-bet on you. Sorry, Hermione. House unity, and I know him better."

"I'm not offended." Hermione waved him off. "I personally would be really shocked if anyone in Gryffindor bet on me." She glanced at Nick. "I guess blue haired lazy bums are more popular here."

"Guess so," Nick replied cockily.

She leaned over and whispered to Nick. "You have the whole house to carry on your shoulders," She said. "Make sure you give them a good performance."

Nick snorted. "How stylish can you make two stunners?"

"Mister Weasley and Mister Finnigan," Merrythought called. The class fell silent, and Hermione and Nick took their seats. Ron and Seamus grinned at each other, and went to the front of the room. The room had been transformed so there was a stage in the front. Merrythought had told them that it was still a work in progress, and that the duels would take place in another room once the 'Dueling Room'—"Real creative," Nick snorted, earning him an elbow jab by Hermione—was finished.

Hermione settled down in her seat, trying to avoid the blank looks Riddle was giving her. What did she think she was, stupid? She wasn't going to go duel with Riddle for no reason. She didn't know _what_ Riddle was thinking if he thought she would agree to duel with him.

"Remember," Merrythought said to the class. "No dangerous spells, or you will receive a week's worth of detention with Mister Filch." Groans could be heard around the room. Hermione grinned. She was unfortunate enough to meet the squib as she had been heading towards the library. He had wanted to report her because she stared at his cat for a few seconds too long. He claimed that she was trying to petrify it with her eyes, and Hermione had to pay her second trip to the Headmaster's office to bail herself out. "The duel is won when your opponent drops his wand, or is in no condition to continue dueling." She stepped aside. "On that note, happy dueling!"

Ron and Seamus dueled for a while, but Hermione was surprised to see that Abraxas had been correct. She sat there for ten minutes, watching stunners fly back and forth. Protego was cast occasionally, but Hermione saw both Ron and Seamus opting to dodge rather than cast a shielding spell.

Hermione looked around; no one seemed too surprised by this. In fact, they even looked like they had expecting it. Hermione guessed this was what happened every time Merrythought decided to have the students duel. Merrythought herself, though, didn't notice the other students chattering and rolling their eyes. She was engrossed in the dueling.

It was an _interesting_ twelve minutes later that Seamus finally dropped his wand. Hermione almost snorted when it wasn't Ron's curse that did it, but because it had slipped out of Seamus's fingers. She wanted to point out that in a real duel, there were still a lot of resources to use if one dropped their wand, but she thought better of it.

_Okay, maybe they weren't that bad. Maybe my standards are just higher. _

"Finally," Nick rolled his eyes. "I thought it would've never ended." He looked at her. "At least we're being considerate by ending the duel in less than ten seconds. I'm sure the audience would appreciate it."

Leave it to Nick to look on the bright side.

A couple more Gryffindor pairs were called up to go. The last one, Minerva and Lily, was the most fascinating. It had begun to take the shape of a real duel, but it was still on the amateur level. The two of them were clumsy, and the spells were often off target. Riddle was noticeably yawning through the duel, and Hermione glared at him. She was going to yawn through _his_ duel.

It turned out she didn't have a chance to.

Riddle and Abraxas were the first Slytherin pair to go up. Riddle cast a simple stunner, and when Abraxas moved aside, Riddle cast a disarming spell. The duel was over, and Abraxas grinned sheepishly at a skeptical Merrythought. She, as well as Hermione, knew that Abraxas had let Riddle win easily.

_Is he really that scared of him?_

"_He's Riddle_," A voice in her head said. "_Even you're afraid of Riddle sometimes._" Hermione scoffed and pushed the voice out of her head.

However, even though she had barely seen Riddle duel, she knew that his level was well above the class's. It was the way he held himself elegantly, and Hermione got the feeling that he wasn't even trying. A lazy look crossed his face, and his spells were incredibly accurate on target. Hermione was sure that if he hadn't been so evil, he would've been a terrific ally.

_And if he was trying, I might even lose to him._

Cygnus and Black were next, and Hermione watched intensely. The two of them seemed to be equally matched, and were both strong in dueling. Hermione wondered if that was Riddle's doing. Hermione didn't think he would take someone weak into his little group. Dumb, maybe, but not weak. Black was more on target, but Cygnus was swifter in dodging. To Hermione's surprise, at the end, she saw a small smile on Cygnus's face. The look was so foreign, Hermione almost dropped out of her seat. _Who knew he could smile?_

It ended in a tie, as the duel was going too long. Merrythought stopped the brothers, much to the disappointment of the class. Hermione had to admit that both of the brothers were better than she thought, and she found a newfound respect for both Black and Cygnus, but the latter glared at her when she offered him a smile. Well, at least she was trying.

"Miss Granger and Mister Porter,"

Riddle turned and smirked at her, but she stood her ground. She wasn't going to lose at him. Nick nudged her, and she started walking towards the front of the room. Merrythought beamed at them, getting her pen and paper ready. It was a shame that the first impression Merrythought was going to get of Hermione was that she couldn't duel, but it was necessary. She couldn't have Riddle finding out any more than he already knew.

_Though really, a little dueling wouldn't hurt. It's not like I'm going to show everything. I _can _restrain myself. _She mentally glared at Nick.

"Porter?" Hermione whispered at Nick. "Nicholas Porter?"

"I was in Portland at the time," Nick defended himself. "It was off the top of my head."

"Why were you in Portland?"

"I'll tell you later,"

Hermione nodded, and walked to the opposite side of the stage. She carefully took her wand out, purposely dropping it. Merrythought frowned slightly, jotting something down in her notebook, making Hermione's heart clench. Riddle's smirk, however, informed her that he had easily seen through her act, and she scowled. She _had_ put up the act for him, though she had to admit it had been rather lame.

Nick nodded at her reassuringly, and the two of them bowed at each other. "One," he mouthed. "Two. Thre-"

"Professor?"

Hermione and Nick lowered their wands, and Hermione turned to glare at Riddle. He was smiling politely at Merrythought. "Since they're both new students, Professor, wouldn't it be more fitting if someone else dueled with them?" _Someone like me._ Hermione could almost hear him say.

Hermione stared wide-eyed at Merrythought, trying to let the Professor know that _no_, it was not a good idea. However, Merrythought beamed at Riddle. "An _excellent_ idea, Mister Riddle!" She cooed. Hermione wanted to die. Leave it to Riddle to ruin something as harmless as a little dueling. "If it wouldn't trouble you, would you mind dueling them?"

"Not at all, Professor," Riddle said smoothly.

_Of course he wouldn't mind._

Abraxas sent her a look of pity. Black started going around the room with sheets of bets again, though Hermione didn't expect anyone to actual bet for her. Hell, she probably would've bet for Riddle if he and Nick were dueling.

Nick pulled her over and whispered, "Don't show anything. I'm going to bet on Riddle, so I don't expect you to disappoint me."

"How do you know I'm the one dueling?" Hermione asked. "Riddle could choose you."

Riddle's voice echoed from the stage. "Granger, get up here."

Nick rolled his eyes as Hermione groaned. "Stay safe," he patted her shoulder reassuringly, before heading back to his seat. He never broke eye contact with her, and it made her feel better.

_Honestly, this is just a duel. It's not like I'm going to die. Why am I so nervous?_

Riddle bowed at her, though not low enough to be recognized as submission. His smirk was plastered on his face. "Ready, Granger?" he said softly.

_Ready to kick your arse._

Hermione drew her wand out, ignoring him. He seemed slow on getting his wand out, so she cast a simple stunner at him. He step-sided it, and grinned at her. Hermione blinked; why was he so happy about a simple stunner? Even the first years could cast a stunner.

"Excellent, Miss Granger," Merrythought said, jotting something down. "Nonverbal spells, excellent, excellent."

_Crap._

Judging by Riddle's face, he did it on purpose.

He sent a simple stunner at her, and she planned to stand there and take the hit. Maybe if she got hit, Merrythought would call off the duel and send her to the Hospital Wing. She wasn't sure how long she could refrain herself from properly dueling. Her restrain would break, and she would start hurling curses at Riddle, and she couldn't guarantee them not to be dark.

However, at the last second, her reflexes caused her to throw herself away from the spell. Riddle raised an eyebrow; she could've just produced a shielding charm after all. Merrythought frowned and jotted something down.

Riddle sent a couple of stunners, and Hermione managed to dodge them all, though she received strange glances from the class. They seemed to have forgotten that they themselves did the exact same.

Her wand hand twitched irritably, and she glanced at Nick. She saw him sighing, and then mouthed, _"Do whatever you want._"

_Thank Merlin._

She raised her wand, a new determination in his eyes. Riddle smirked, and said, "This is more like it."

He cast some spells in succession. Hermione didn't recognize some of them, much to her frustration. She wasn't used to spells she didn't recognize. Maybe her studies were slipping? She needed study more. She had been more focused on avoiding Riddle in the library than actually reading the book.

She step-sided the foreign spells, and set up a simple shielding charm. She remembered that these were all in the fifth grade curriculum, so it wouldn't look too suspicious, right? This could be easy, and maybe a little fun. Her grade wouldn't drop that much, but she wouldn't reveal anything of importance to Riddle either. Some very basic spell casting couldn't hurt, could it?

If only Riddle made life easy for her.

The battle progressed on, and Hermione was sure it had lasted even longer than Cygnus's and Black's, but Merrythought hadn't stopped them. She was watching, along with the rest of the class, fascinated. Nick was rolling his eyes, but offered her a smile in encouragement._ 'Mountain lion_' he mouthed at her, and she took her anger out on Riddle, who barely dodged a spell aimed for his head.

Abraxas looked shocked that she had lasted so long. He obviously had not pegged her for the dueling type. Well, there was a lot about her that he didn't know.

Riddle's spells got increasingly harder. She was sure, to the class, he looked like the perfect role model. He started off with basic spells, and started working his way up, testing to see what she knew. However, Hermione knew that Riddle had a motive, and though she hated to admit it, he was _really_ good at getting what he wanted.

She was sure Riddle was holding back, but she couldn't complain, as she was holding back as well. She wondered slightly what would be the result if the two of them battled full force. It seemed that neither of them were too keen on showing Merrythought their true power. If they did, Riddle probably would've won, she thought sadly, but that's because he was more experienced in Dark Arts. All she ever did was cast a few Unforgivables here and there. Maybe she should start studying Dark Arts as well. She would have to add that to the list of things she had to do.

Hermione cast _Incarcerous_, ropes forming from the tip of her wand and lashing at him. Merrythought was furiously scribbling things down. Riddle step-sided it, returning it with _Incendio. _Fire sparks flew out of the tip of his wand. She dodged it, only to find out they kept coming. She must've looked ridiculous, opting to dodge like crazy rather than to cast a stronger shielding charm. Riddle smirked and relaxed slightly, obviously believing he had won. Hermione scowled. He didn't win yet. She still had some tricks up her sleeves.

However, before she could use those said tricks, she tripped.

And promptly fell into Tom Riddle.

The two of them tumbled off the stage and on to the floor. Collective gasps could be heard around the room. When the dust cleared, Hermione was straddling Riddle, a pink blush forming on her face. Several outraged cries could be heard around the room, and Riddle smirked at Hermione. Black's wolf whistle could be heard in the background.

_Isn't this awkward._

Hermione removed herself from on top of Riddle, apologizing profusely. Riddle had a smug look on his face, and Hermione desperately looked around for something to clear the awkward atmosphere. She then noticed something, and turned to Merrythought triumphantly. "Professor?" she said sweetly. "I believe Riddle here dropped his wand."

Merrythought blinked and looked at the ground. "So he did," she said, rather astonished. "I don't know if I should count it or not, though…"

"You should count it, Professor," Riddle stood up, picking his wand up in the process. Hermione looked at him suspiciously; what was he up to? "She won fair and square."

Merrythought looked doubtful, but nodded anyway. Riddle started to make his way towards the Slytherin section of the room, but then bent down to whisper, "I do wish you'd show me your true strength, Granger."

Hermione could only gap at him as he made his way back to his seat, not the least bit concerned that he had 'lost.' Hermione sighed and made her way back over to Nick. It wasn't as bad as she had expected, but it did seem to pique up Riddle's curiosity once more. There really was no way to win against him, was there?

"Nice job, Hermione," Ron said, grinning. "That tackle move at the end was brilliant. I don't think anyone has ever beaten Riddle before."

Hermione nodded, and then plopped down besides Nick. "They seem to think I did it on purpose,"

Nick laughed. "_I_ thought you did it on purpose at first. I don't think I've ever seen you trip up. Maybe your utter motive was to straddle Riddle in front of the class?" Hermione scowled. "I owe you, by the way,"

Hermione looked at him, puzzled. "Why?"

Nick pointed at his watch. "Class ends in five minutes. There's no way she's going to ask me to duel." He sat back leisurely in his chair as Hermione glared at him. "Just watch."

Merrythought stood up and cast a glance at Nick. "I'm sorry, Mister Porter, but we don't have time for your duel today. Maybe next class?"

"It's okay, Professor. I won't mind." He said sweetly, and Merrythought beamed at him. He caught Hermione looking at him, and said, "What?"

"You're improving," she grinned at him. "You're almost as good as me now,"

"What can I say? I'm learning from the best."

ஐ

"Stop, you're adding the wrong thing!"

"The Griffin Claw is supposed to be powdered. Does that look powdered?"

"You stir twice, Abraxas."

"Counter clockwise, not clockwise. Can you read?"

"You add that after letting the potion sit for two days. It says it here in big bold letters."

"If you add salamander blood right now, I may have to kill you."

"Will the both of you shut up?" Abraxas glared at his two seat partners as they sat leisurely in their chairs. "Why don't the both of you do it then, if you're so smart?"

"Oh, we would do it," Riddle yawned. "But there's no doubt our potion would come out perfect, so we figured why waste the effort when you can have someone else do it for you?"

"Hear, hear," Hermione echoed.

"You suck,"

Black turned around and grinned. "I don't envy you right now," he patted Abraxas on the shoulders, and turned towards Riddle. "Hogsmeade is coming up next weekend. Want me to ask my mother to sign your permission slip as well?"

Riddle frowned and shook his head. "I'll just go ask Dippet. I'm sure he'll let me go."

_If you didn't murder Tim, this wouldn't have happened._

Still, the Hogsmeade trip proved to be troublesome. There was no way that she was going to ask her father to sign it for her. _Because that'll be perfectly normal, bringing in a piece of paper that says 'Gellert Grindelwald' on it. _Hermione snorted. If Riddle were to get his hands on it, he'd think it was a sick joke—or worse, he'd believe it.

However, if she couldn't go, then Nick couldn't go either. It would look awfully suspicious if the two of the newest students couldn't go because they had not acquired parent signatures. Riddle would become more suspicious. She knew she had given the name 'Monica Wilkes' to him as the name of her mother, and it was true Monica Wilkes was dead. She could then say her father was dead too. However, Riddle knew they were half siblings, and if he were to do some research, he would figure out that Nick _looked_ like Monica Wilkes, which would symbolize the two of them having different fathers. However, did Monica Wilkes really have two husbands who both happened to die? She wasn't sure; she was going to have to check.

She could only pray Riddle didn't do any research. Or maybe she could drive a car over Nick's face to see if it could dismantle his face enough. Even though Nick was no longer working for her father, him being Grindelwald's son was just as bad. And honestly, if one looked hard enough, they could figure out the resemblance pretty quickly.

Eleanor turned around and said sweetly to Riddle, "Tom, we have a Quidditch match tomorrow. We're playing against Gryffindor. Would you like to come?"

Instead of answering her, Riddle turned to Hermione and smirked. "Guess we all know who's going."

Hermione crossed her arms. "For your information, I'm going because Black got down on his knees and begged me, and not because Nick is going."

Black grinned. "I was cow toeing."

"Kowtow," Hermione corrected.

Black opened his mouth to reply, when Slughorn cleared his throat. "Are you finished?" He asked, looking at Black's cauldron. "Mister Black, I advise you to spend more time on your potion and less time working your mouth." He glanced over at Hermione's. "Perfect, as usual. Take ten points apiece to Slytherin."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Black, who grumbled and went back to teasing Eleanor, seeming to have no intention of finishing his potion. Abraxas glared over at his two companions once Slughorn was gone, and said, "You owe me. I just saved your grade."

"What are you talking about?" Riddle asked innocently. "We earned just as many points as you did, which symbolizes that that we must have done as much work as you did. It's only logical."

Abraxas grumbled some nonsense that sounded suspiciously like '_stupid know-it-alls_.' Hermione stood up, taking her bag with her just in case Black decided to do something fishy. "I'm going to the bathroom," she announced.

Black grinned at her. "Can I come with you?"

Hermione ignored him and walked out of the classroom, but not before noticing the jealous look that Eleanor gave her. _Really_. Did everyone in the school like either Black, Abraxas or Riddle? She had yet to stumble upon a girl who didn't.

_Aside from herself, of course._

But she didn't have the time to worry over boys. First, there was obviously the problem that no one would date her even if it was a choice between the Giant Squid and her. She was just too bossy, and not many guys liked a girl who was smarter than them. Also, by the looks of things, guys preferred girls who spent their time giggling and gossiping than studying. Hence why Tracey had so many admirers.

Second, she had tried not to let herself get attached to too many people, whether they may be boys or girls. She needed to fight, both physically and mentally. She didn't have the strength to fight for two people, especially if that said person was weak. That was why the only person she really allowed herself to get attached to was Nick. Nick knew how to fight, and whenever they fought together, she could always count on him to cover for her.

Judging by the duels she saw in DADA, Hermione guessed that there wasn't many people in the school who could provide the same protection as Nick did. Riddle, maybe, but she highly doubted he would agree to unless there was something in it for him.

She stumbled into the bathroom, deep in thought, and saw Violetta puking her guts out into the sink. She seemed to be crying. Feeling rather awkward and not knowing what to do, Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Violetta?"

The girl squealed and turned around, trying to hide the sink with her body. "H-hi Hermione," She stuttered, glancing at the door as if help would arrive. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Are you okay?" Hermione demanded, ignoring her question. "Are you sick? Do you need me to get anyone? Maybe I should get Tracey, and the two of you can walk to Madam Pomfrey together-"

"No!" The girl shrieked, and Hermione stared at her. Violetta dissolved in sobs, and Hermione walked over and awkwardly patted her back. "They can't know!"

"You _have_ to let Madame Pomfrey know," Hermione insisted. "This could be life threatening."

"Madame Pomfrey does know," Violetta cried, sinking to her knees. Hermione sat down uneasily, not sure if her presence was welcome. She had never been good at comforting people. The only person she had ever seen cry before was Nick, as she rarely associated with other people. And whenever Nick cried, which was very rare, she sat next to him and laughed. She doubt Violetta would appreciate her laughing. "I just don't want Tracey or Walburga or anyone else to know. I don't want them to look down on me."

"I don't think they will," Hermione replied gently, though she knew it wasn't true. Knowing Tracey, she would shun Violetta. Tracey liked to think of everyone as perfect, and she refused to associate with them otherwise.

They sat silently for awhile, Violetta giving an occasional hiccup. Hermione turned towards her. "So, do you know what this is? If you're taking medicine, I don't think you should still be puking."

Violetta shook her head. "There's no cure for this. I can take some medicines to lessen my headaches, but I puke when I need to puke, and that's that." Hermione opened her mouth, but Violetta interrupted her. "Please don't ask about it. It's rather personal."

Hermione nodded respectfully and asked, "Does anyone else know about this?"

"Dippet knows, of course. Madam Pomfrey knows. Cy knows. And Orion, because Cy told him. I'm fine with letting him know, as long as he keeps it to himself."

Hermione wanted to pursue the topic, but it seemed like Violetta wasn't too keen on sharing with her. Hermione didn't blame her. The two of them barely knew each other, and she was asking something so personal. If it were reversed, she wouldn't even _think_ about telling her.

"You and Cygnus seem to know each other well," Hermione commented instead.

"Yes," Violetta said quietly, and then looked at her. "Cy doesn't seem to like you much."

"That's an understatement."

Violetta laughed softly. "Don't worry. Cy rarely likes someone he just meets." She paused. "Cy doesn't open up too much."

"That's what Black said as well,"

Violetta nodded. "The two of them have…personal issues that they've had to overcome. Cy decided to shut down everyone, as he believed that isolation would help overcome his pain. Orion thought that if he opened up to everyone, it could mask the fact that he had a tragic past." Violetta looked at her. "They're very different."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Hermione was rather bewildered that the girl was sharing this information with her. The two of them had hardly spoken. Or maybe Violetta had thought she was close enough to Black that she ought to know. However, Black never showed any signs of a tragic past. In fact, every time she had seen him, he had always been grinning.

"Cy has always been like this, for as long as I've known him," Violetta said, and Hermione didn't miss the twinkle in her eyes when she talked about her friend. "My parents and his parents were friends, so we were invited to their house when the two of us were three. I already had my illness then. It was worse than it is now." Violetta looked at her. "Could you tell if you didn't see it?"

"No," Hermione admitted. Violetta seemed healthy enough, running around as normal girls did. She didn't suspect anything out of ordinary, and still wouldn't if she hadn't stumbled upon the girl puking.

Violetta nodded. "Back then, anyone who saw me could tell. My face was always pale, and when I wasn't throwing up, I was coughing up blood." Hermione winced, but the girl didn't notice. "That's how Cy first saw me: in the bathroom coughing up blood." She looked at Hermione. "Actually, it was quite like this."

"Cygnus went into your bathroom?" Hermione said, blinking.

"Oh, not intentionally, of course. The Black's house has separated bathrooms for males and females, so I was obviously in the female one, and he was heading towards the male one."

_Stupid rich people, _Hermione thought to herself. Her father had quite a decent amount of money, but she didn't see him spending any on separate bathrooms. In fact, he didn't even have a mansion or anything even close to it, as it would draw unwanted attention.

"I forgot to lock the door, and Cy heard me crying and coughing, so he came in. He stayed there until I calmed down." There was so much love on Violetta's face right now, and Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly at her obvious affection. That was what she looked like when she talked about Nick. "Since then, we've been making progress."

Hermione nodded. "That explains why the two of you are so close."

"Yeah. I feel bad sometimes, though," Violetta looked at the wall. "I don't have many friends, because a lot of people feel grossed out about my condition. Cy, however, he's popular enough. He's also talented and intelligent," she paused. "But he doesn't pursue his dreams because of me."

Hermione blinked. "Why not?"

"He seemed to get the impression that I'm a crippled old lady, and he has to do everything for me," Violetta admitted. "When we're alone, he feels like he needs to carry everything for me. When we're in public, he feels as if he needs to look out for me rather than doing what he wants to do."

"Well," Hermione replied softly. "Isn't that what you'd do for him?"

A smile formed on Violetta's lips. "True." Then, she suddenly turned to Hermione and asked, "What about you and Nick?"

Hermione blinked. "What about us?" she asked cautiously.

"I always see you two together," Violetta shrugged. "It's hard to be opposite genders here and not be the gossip of the school, but also when it's two people of different houses." She frowned slightly. "I tried talking to him, but he always brushes me off."

Hermione stared. Nick never mentioned coming to contact with Violetta. Then again, the two of them barely had time to talk. "Want to make a deal? Get Cygnus to stop scowling at me, and I'll get Nick to be civil to you."

Violetta giggled. "Deal." She glanced at her. "You know, you're not as bad as I thought you were. You're actually quite nice, Hermione."

"No?" Hermione raised her eyebrow. "How bad did you think I was, then?"

Violetta shrugged. "This snobby know-it-all. I don't know. It was the way you acted in class. The only one I've seen answer a question like that is Minerva." She scrunched up her nose. "I don't like her too much."

Hermione had to admit Minerva had her bossy moments, but she overall didn't mind the girl. "I _am_ a snobby know-it-all," she replied. "And you're better than I thought you were as well. I thought you were the gossip queen along with Tracey and Walburga."

"Oh, no. I hate gossip." Violetta admitted. "There's enough swirling around Cy and me. I don't know if this occurred where you came from, but here, interactions with the opposite gender is rare and gossip-worthy."

Hermione thought hard. She couldn't recall any gender restrictions, but then again, she had always been with Nick, and she didn't really care what the others thought of the two of them. She shook her head.

"I heard what you did in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Violetta said. "That's pretty impressive. I don't think anyone has ever beaten Tom before."

"You know about it?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Of course I do. Cy told me about it, but I would've heard about it even if he didn't." Catching Hermione skeptical glance, she added, "Just because Cy doesn't seem to like you doesn't mean he's not watching you. He's very observant."

"Er…thanks?" she said. "I suppose you're going to attack me for harming Riddle?"

"No, no, no." Violetta shook her head. "I'm not like Tracey. I don't even like Tom. Sure, I think he's polite and handsome," Hermione refrained from gagging. _You sure you don't like him? _"But he's got enough admirers that I don't stand a chance. Plus, I already like someone else."

"Cygnus, right?" Hermione nodded.

Violetta blushed. "H-How did you know? Tracey?"

Hermione snorted. "The day Tracey talks to me civilly about things like this is the day the world ends. No, I heard it from Eileen, though it is fairly obvious." A sudden though registered in her mind. "If you don't like Riddle, why do you always stare at him?"

"I try to fit in," Violetta admitted. "Cy always says that I can't always rely on him because of the gender barriers, so I try to make some friends that are girls. Tracey and Walburga were the first people I met here, so whatever they do, I try to copy." Violetta gnawed at her lower lip. "Am I doing a good job?"

"Yeah," Hermione cast her a sideways look. "You sure you don't want to reconsider Riddle? He's awfully good at tricking people as well."

A smile stretched across Violetta's face as she said eagerly, "So tell me about you and Tom and Abraxas and Orion. Tracey likes to talk about you four, you know, though I can't say she talks about you with the same enthusiasm as the other three."

Hermione gaped at her. "I thought you were against gossip?"

Violetta giggled. "Just because I don't like it doesn't mean that I can't pry into other people's personal lives."

_Yep, she should definitely be friends with Riddle._

So Hermione told her everything. She didn't know if it was because she felt bad about Violetta's condition. Or maybe she was just feeling awfully generous. It could also be that her feelings for the girl changed dramatically over the time they had been talking. Whatever it was, the two of them sat together in the bathroom, sharing pieces of their lives.

Hermione had to admit that maybe some girly talk once in awhile was good for her.

ஐ

Someone screamed.

Hermione sat up quickly, slightly disoriented, and looked around. Cygnus stood there, clearly out of breath. Walburga and Tracey both stuck their heads out, and then grinned flirtingly. Hermione rolled her eyes; they knew how Violetta felt about him, yet they still flirted with him? Hermione glanced over. Both Violetta and Eileen hadn't moved their curtains and stuck their heads out, symbolizing that the two of them were still asleep.

_How can they sleep through Tracey's scream?_

"Hi, Cygnus," Tracey said, grinning. "Violetta is still asleep, though I don't think she'd mind if I woke her up. We wouldn't mind if you stayed here tonight." She said sweetly. Her implication was clear: If Violetta and Cygnus were going to do something, Tracey wanted to be a part of it.

Cygnus, on contrast, was pure business. He turned his serious eyes away from Tracey, before they dropped on her. She stared back, rather puzzled. Tracey's face morphed into a nasty scowl. Walburga, who seemed to have no interest in Cygnus, flopped back inside the curtains and went back to sleep.

"Hermione," Cygnus said, shocking her. It had been the first time he called her by her name, and she was rather surprised to hear no hatred in his voice. "Can you step outside with me?"

Hermione blinked, and checked her alarm clock. "It's three."

"Please."

Hermione started to put on sweatpants and a sweater over her pajamas. She would change into her robes, though it took longer. Tracey eyed her attire in disgust, but surprisingly, Cygnus didn't even glance at it. He tapped his foot impatiently, and a desperate look was on his face. Once he saw that she was dressed, he led her out of the dorm quickly, leaving a scowling Tracey behind.

The two of them hurried out of the Slytherin common room and down the cold dungeons. After a couple of minutes, Cygnus still hadn't spoken, so she asked, "Where are we going?"

"I don't know."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "You tell me to come out of my room past curfew and not know where you're going?"

"I really don't know." There was desperation in his voice. "I need you to help me. You're the only one I know of that can help me."

Hermione blinked as they approached the forbidden forest. The cool breeze brushed against her cheeks. "You want me to go into the Forbidden Forest?" she asked suspiciously. "If you're just trying to get me expelled, it's not going to work-"

"If I wanted to get you expelled, I would've come up with a more elaborate plan," Cygnus snorted, but then the serious look was back on his face. "Listen, I know this is a really big problem, and it'll be a really big favor you're doing me-"

"Cygnus," she interrupted him, but he kept talking.

"But I wasn't lying when I said you're the only one who can help me. Well, other than Tom, of course, but I'm sure not going to run to him with my problems."

"Cygnus-"

"I'm sorry for my treatment to you for the last week, but I'll do anything, _anything_, if you can help me-"

"CYGNUS!" She yelled at him. He immediately shut up. "I can't do anything if you don't tell me about the problem."

Cygnus took a deep breath and looked her right in the eye. "It's Violetta," he said, and Hermione's heart tightened at the mention of her new friend. "She was kidnapped. It was dark, and I couldn't see anything. However, when her captor took her, she dropped this," Cygnus held out a little button, and Hermione almost fainted.

On the button was a triangle, with a line and a circle in it.

The sign of the Deathly Hallows.

Grindelwald's sign.

_**To Be Continued…**_

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><p><strong>P.S:<strong>On that note, I hope you all have a happy weekend. Also, it seems like I've developed an interest in cliffhangers. Hope you like them. ;)


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Haha, I failed my first deadline. I had about five essays to write, and a midterm on Saturday, so I didn't actually get started until Saturday afternoon. I might change my schedule to once every two weeks. We'll see. On a second note, I started making an outline for what I'm going to write for each individual chapter. Major spoiler: Tom and Hermione interact. Bet you didn't know that. ;)

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything but the plot. Everything belongs respectfully to JK Rowling and I am not using this fanfiction to make money.

Thanks to my beta, AllShadesOfGrey!

Thanks for reviewing and reading my story. You guys are the best!

Vanilla Sensation, Allie Riddle, sweets1111, Zombie Reine, CathyCullen16, Angellwriter, Kareanna, morpheusandmuse, andiescandieee, Red Sphinx, Brooke Alanah

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><p>"Cygnus," Hermione said, suddenly serious. He turned towards her, and Hermione could see the panic etched in his eyes. "I need you to go back to Hogwarts and stay there until I come back. Don't tell anyone about this."<p>

Cygnus gaped at her. "If you think I'm crazy, and let you just go by yourself, I'm not going to let you-"

"Please, Cygnus" She said tiredly. She was in no mood to argue with him, and she was wasting time standing there and arguing with him.

Cygnus crossed his hands in front of his chest and scowled. "No."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She was going to save his best friend for him, yet he still didn't let her go? She understood his protectiveness, but she couldn't bring him along. Not only was he likely to get killed, but she would get slowed down.

"I think you're underestimating this," Cygnus said. "Do you realize what this is? This is _Grindelwald's_symbol. Do you know Grindelwald?" He looked at her.

Hermione's eyebrow twitched. "Of course I know Grindelwald."

"You think you can singlehandedly defeat him?" Cygnus asked, looking at her. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to control herself. She didn't know if, when she opened her mouth, she was going to scream in frustration or laugh at the irony of the situation. Neither option seemed particularly welcoming. "I don't know where you're from, but you're _clearly_ underestimating him if you think you can just go by yourself-"

"Cygnus," she said softly. "I think you're underestimating _me._"

Before he had a chance to say anything else, she struck the back of his head, and he slumped over. She caught him, and laid him down near the Forbidden Forest, but still protected by the Hogwarts wards. She disillusioned him, silently apologizing. She couldn't bring him along and risk his life. What good would it be if she brought Violetta back and left Cygnus there to die?

Hermione took a deep breath. She would be meeting her father again. It was a little too early for her liking, but she didn't have a choice. She fingered her necklace. Her father had given it to her before, telling her that the little circle in the middle was actually a portkey. However, him being ever so careful, he attached a secret code to it. She spun the dial seven times, and then the portkey activated, dragging her with it.

ஐ

"Hermione, dear, what brings you here?"

Hermione scowled at her father as she was brought into a tiny room. Grindelwald sat on a chair, drinking wine out of his goblet. His robes looked similar to Dumbledore's. They were both crimson red. The room and the situation reminded Hermione strangely of Riddle and his little group.

"You know why I'm here," Hermione scowled at him. She looked around, trying to have any clue to indicate where she was. She came up with nothing.

His grin widened, and he twirled his cup between his fingers. "I do not. Please enlighten me."

Hermione gritted her teeth. She guessed that if one was powerful enough, they could be as annoying as they wanted, hence why Riddle and her father were both insufferable pricks. "Where's Violetta?"

Before her father could answer, another man bustled in to the room and immediately kneeled before him. He had short blond hair, a scrawny face, and was rather short. She recognized him as Russell, one of her father's closest confidants. She had never really paid him any attention, but to her defense, neither had he.

"My Lord," Russell said, and Hermione was struck on how similar the situation was to Riddle's meeting. _I guess the high and mighty like being addressed with superiority, though if it was up to me, I wouldn't want anyone to ever call me 'My Lord.'_ "Stalin and the others reported that Mission 1662 was completed successfully."

_My mission was mission 1231,_Hermione thought. There seemed to be a lot of missions since she was gone. Most of the time, the mission were tiny things like stealing a certain object. It was quick, unlike hers. However, four hundred thirty one missions was a little over the top. _Guess he's finally started to expand his power_

"Very well. They will be rewarded." Hermione didn't miss the envious glint in Russell's eyes, but apparently Grindelwald did. Her father took a sip from his goblet before continuing. "You are dismissed. I will contact you with any more information."

"Yes, sir," Russell said, getting up. Hermione moved aside to let him pass by her, and the little movement caused his eyes to stray to her. His eyes widened in recognition, and before Hermione could process anything, he lunged for her, his eyes filled with hatred.

"Where is he?" he hissed. "Where are you hiding him?"

Hermione stared at him, too shocked to say anything. Russell clutched the front of her sweatshirt and shook her, his eyes narrowed. Her silence seemed to tick him off more, and he bared his teeth at her threateningly. Her hand inched towards her wand in her pocket just in case he decided to do anything suspicious.

"I know you have him." Russell said angrily. "That stupid rodent that keeps evading my grasp. _Where is he?_How dare you hide him from me!"

_Nick._ Hermione closed her mouth and stared at him defiantly, all her fear gone. Russell most likely knew that Nick was in Hogwarts, so maybe he was wondering where Nick went over the breaks. She wasn't going to endanger both Nick and the Weasleys. She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly. Maybe he saw it on her face, because he scowled furiously and looked as if he were going to beat her up when someone cleared their throat loudly behind them.

"Russell," Grindelwald said in a clear voice, and Russell reluctantly released his grip on Hermione's sweatshirt. He didn't move from his close proximity, though, and he kept sneaking glares at her. "I would appreciate if you did not murder my daughter."

Russell nodded and said, "Yes, My Lord. I apologize." An awkward silence spanned as the man didn't seem to take the hint that his presence was not wanted.

Her father finally sighed. "Russell, you are dismissed."

Now that he had said it, Russell had no choice but to obey. However, before he left, he shot one last threatening glare at Hermione. She met his gaze evenly, and that seemed to make him even more furious. With a swirl of his cloak, he was gone. Hermione hoped she wouldn't see him again for a long time. Without her father's presence, he would most definitely attack her. While she didn't think she had any trouble dueling with him, it would be rather tiresome.

"Now, Hermione," Grindelwald said. He twirled his goblet and gestured towards her. "Why don't you sit down? We have so much to catch up on, and this conversation will be no means short." He leaned back in his chair comfortably.

"No," Hermione scowled at him. She didn't like sitting down in front of her father. There was the fact that it made her so much shorter than him, and she needed to be ready on her feet in case someone decided to do something.

"As you wish," Grindelwald purred. "Now, why do you say you are here? Other than to appreciate my presence, of course."

_Egoistic bastard._"Violetta," Hermione gritted out.

"Violetta?" Grindelwald mused. "Oh, is that the name of my newest collection? Such a pretty name for a pretty girl…I think I may keep her." He looked at her, as if gauging her reaction.

Hermione knew he was playing with her. He had no need to keep a random schoolgirl, and Hermione saw no advantage for him to do so. However, she still felt fury surge through her body, and she scowled at him. "No. Give her back. I need to bring her back to Hogwarts."

Grindelwald clucked his tongue in amusement. "Such anger I see in your eyes. I suppose the report was correct when they mentioned that you were getting rather…attached to your friends." Hermione could hear a disapproving tone in his voice.

Hermione's blood froze over. "How come you didn't tell me?" she demanded. "Shouldn't I be able to know who else is a spy at Hogwarts so we can work together?"

Her father shook his head disapprovingly. "I didn't send her so the two of you could work together." _Her._ It was a girl. Hermione thought hard, and came up with several candidates of who she could be. She would have to investigate more. "I sent her to make sure that _you_ were on track." He rested his head on his hands. "It seemed as if you are getting rather…distracted."

Hermione hated when people were watching her, especially if she didn't know who exactly it was. Even more so if her _father_ knew who it was, and wasn't going to tell her. "I am not getting distracted,"

"No?" Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. "So you weren't parading through the school with Misters Malfoy and Black?"_ He didn't mention Riddle_, Hermione thought. _Guess the two of us aren't 'friendly' enough for the spy._

Hermione flushed angrily at the mention of her friends, but raised her head to meet his gaze evenly. "They mean nothing to me," she lied, hoping her face didn't betray her feelings. "You always said that the best of spies could trick anyone they wanted."

Grindelwald's eyes twinkled, though very unlike Dumbledore's. His held a mad glint in it. "Yes, but when I said that, I meant _important_ people who held power and information, not little schoolboys with disgusting desires."

Hermione's eyebrows twitched, but she couldn't come up with a retort. The two families _did_ have power, but it wasn't the kind of power that her father was seeking for. He didn't care for money; he had plenty of that himself.

"Tell me," Grindelwald purred. "How are things going at Hogwarts? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes." Hermione said curtly. Had it been anyone else—even Riddle—she would've babbled on and on. However, seeing how this was her father, she figured the less information she gave him, the better. "It's going well."

"Make sure it does," he replied smoothly. "And how about your friend?"

"Which one?" she replied bitterly.

Grindelwald's smile widened. "Why, Nick, of course. Russell has been complaining to me nonstop after your friend decided to take refuge in Hogwarts. It is quite dreadfully boring to listen to him obsess over your friend."

_Your friend._ _Not 'my son,' but 'your friend.'_ Hermione glared at him. "What Nick does is none of your business."

Her father seemed to be amused. "No?" he asked, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of who she was talking to. She tried not to shrink back, though she desperately wanted to. "I have to admit, I didn't expect him to be _that_ cowardly, running and hiding under Albus Dumbledore." Hermione didn't miss the edge in his voice as he spoke of her Transfiguration teacher. "However, even that won't stop me from getting what I want."

"No!" Hermione said, eyes wide. "P-please don't hurt him. _Please._"

Grindelwald looked pleased. "But you know, Hermione dear," he purred. "I do not give in to mere begging. I expect something in return."

_I will give anything._ "What do you want?" she croaked out.

Grindelwald smiled, but to her displeasure, he changed the topic. "My daughter, do you know why I allowed you to go to Hogwarts? Do you know what your mission is?"

"Dumbledore?" _Who else?_

Her father looked genuinely surprised, before masking it with a smirk. "Why yes, your mission is my dear old friend, Albus." There was a false tone in his voice, though, and it made Hermione grow suspicious. _If not, then what?_"How is he? Have you met him?"

"Yes, he's my professor." Hermione said. She didn't want to add anything that might offend her father, but she didn't want to insult Dumbledore behind his back either. He, in her opinion, was one of the best professors she had.

"Does he still have his dreadful obsession with lemon drops?"

Hermione didn't know why he cared, but nodded. Before she could elaborate further, another man came in. This time he had an afro, and Nick's words suddenly echoed in her mind. _Stalin._ He took no notice of her and knelt down at Grindelwald's feet.

"My Lord," he said dutifully.

"Stalin, what great pleasure to see you," Her father said, putting down his empty goblet. A maid scuttled out of nowhere and took it with shaking fingers before hurrying back into the shadows. Hermione frowned; her father had never been one to use maids. He always used house elves. "What news do you bring for me?"

"He told me that the girl has escaped from Hogwarts," Stalin said, bending his head so low his nose almost touched the floor. Hermione raised an eyebrow. _What girl?_

Grindelwald chuckled. "Yes, I know. My daughter is right behind you, after all."

Stalin jerked his head up, narrowing his eyes when he saw her. Hermione met his gaze evenly. _Am I really that invisible?_Suddenly, something that the man said registered in her mind. _'He told me that the girl has escaped from Hogwarts.'_There was a boy spy as well? How many of them were there?

"Forgive me for interrupting your reunion," Stalin said smoothly, standing up and brushing himself off. "Is there anything you require of me, My Lord?"

"Tell him I am greatly pleased in him," Grindelwald replied. "He will be rewarded soon enough."

Stalin nodded respectfully and spun away, though not before Hermione saw a prideful glint in his eyes. _Huh, perhaps the said spy was related to Stalin?_ She dug through her memory, but she couldn't remember Stalin being anything but solo.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione demanded once Stalin left.

Her father's grin was infuriating. "Tell you what?"

"How many spies are there?" Hermione asked. "How come you have so many people running around for you, and I don't know anything about it? I'm your_daughter!_ I deserve to know!"

As soon as she said it, her father's face changed to an expressionless mask. Hermione gulped. "Being my daughter does not give you extra rights," he said dangerously. All her previous bravado gone, Hermione could only nod. "If you were _truly_ my daughter, you would have taken the time to written me letters on how the mission was going." _Right, I forgot._Hermione mentally smacked herself. She cursed herself for being so stupid. "Next time, instead of spending time with your precious Nick, why don't you think about who let you attend Hogwarts in the first place?"

Hermione kept her head low. "Yes, Father."

"Do not test my limitations. Ignore me again, and you'll find that I can be much crueler than taking your friend in order to contact you." His clear blue eyes met hers, and Hermione was reminded again about why she feared him so much. "Are we clear?"

_Violetta was taken because of me_, Hermione thought. _She was taken because of my careless mistake. She could've been hurt because of me._"It won't happen again, Father." She whispered.

"Make sure it doesn't." He snapped his fingers. The maid from earlier scuttled back in. However, this time, she was carrying a dozing Violetta. Hermione smiled slightly in reassurance at the maid when she neared her, but the maid cast a look of horror and hurried away. Hermione crouched down and brushed the hair off of Violetta's face. There seemed to be no physical damage to her, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"I obliviated her memory," her father said. She hadn't realized he had gotten up from his chair until he was towering over her. "Get her back to her dorm and don't make anyone suspicious. If you disappoint me one more time, Hermione," he looked at her. "I will make no promises."

"Yes, Father," she said, before pulling Violetta with her in side apparition. She had seen enough of her father for the time being, and she needed some time to herself to seriously on her position on this whole, elaborate plan that her father thought up that was more complicated than she dared to imagine.

ஐ

Hermione yawned tiredly, heading towards the common room. It was five in the morning, though she still couldn't sleep. Her recent encounter with her father had her rolling around, and classes started in three hours anyway. She didn't think she'd be able to fall asleep before then.

Cygnus had woken up by the time she had dragged an unconscious Violetta back to Hogwarts, and he was livid. She had no doubt he would've yelled at her if they weren't currently on the field after curfew. Cygnus was suspicious, but he didn't seem to put the puzzle pieces together, much to Hermione's relief. She didn't want to obliviate him. Not only would it make her feel terrible—he didn't do anything, after all—but she had a great risk of getting caught.

_I can't believe Father overlooked him_, Hermione snorted.

However, she had a feeling she wasn't off the hook with Cygnus yet. He had grudgingly let her go when he was ensured that Violetta was safely in her bed. However, he was most likely going to start questioning her tomorrow, and she had to be extra careful to not let anything important slip. What's more, she didn't know what he knew. Her father had known that she would be put in to an awkward position, and it seemed as if he didn't care. There was nothing she held against him. What was she going to do if Dumbledore or someone else arrested her? She didn't even know where her father was. He could easily shut down the portkey.

Hermione stumbled in to the common room and was surprised to see a figure draped over one of the sofas. She paused slightly, not wanting to answer questions from a random first year Slytherin about why she was up so late, but then saw it was Riddle. His chest was moving up and down, and his eyes were closed. He looked rather vulnerable for once, and Hermione smiled as she slid in to the sofa next to him, being careful not to shake the sofa in the process.

His eyes popped open, startling her. She hadn't realized he was awake. He grinned toothily at her, a look that was foreign on his face. "Hey, Hermione," he said cheerily, and Hermione stared. That was the first time he had addressed her by her first name. He didn't seem to notice anything wrong, and instead sat up and placed his hands in his lap and _beamed_ at her. He reminded Hermione of a kindergartener who was about to receive a birthday gift.

"Hi, Riddle," she eyed him, still slightly suspicious. "Why are you up so early?"

"Early?" he repeated, a loopy grin on his face. "It's not early. Look," he gestured towards the window. "It's still dark."

"Riddle, that's because there's curtains," she explained, trying to decide whether or not to laugh or go find him serious help. Maybe he was playing dumb with her because that was his idea of fun. "The sun is up."

"Is it really?" Riddle giggled, and Hermione finally realized something. The giggle ticked her off. She had _never_ heard him giggle, and the sound scared her. "I like the sun. It's bright."

"Are you _drunk_?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Drunk? _No_." Riddle replied cheerfully, sliding closer to her. "I just had a teeny little sip of Firewhiskey, that's all. Dumbledore would have my head if I were drunk."

"You're drunk, Riddle," Hermione sighed. Who would have thought that the high and mighty Tom Riddle would fall under the influences of alcohol?

Riddle surprised her even more by stamping his feet loudly. "I am _not_ drunk!"

"Whatever you say."

He suddenly looked extremely sad, and before Hermione could do anything, he leaned towards her, grabbing her hands and stared intently into her eyes. Hermione let out a small squeak, but he didn't seem to notice. "Maybe I'm a _little_ drunk." He admitted. "But _please_ don't tell Dumbledore. I don't want to be expelled." He had the look of a kicked puppy. "I don't want to go back to the orphanage."

Hermione blinked. There was _no_ way this was Tom Riddle, drunk or not. Maybe this was an imposter. However, he raised his head to meet hers, and she couldn't resist the face he had on. "I won't tell Dumbledore," she said, watching his face light up. "But you have to tell me about the orphanage."

Riddle made a face. "I don't like the orphanage." He said. "People don't like me. I don't belong there. P-people don't give me their stuff when I ask, so then I curse them." A triumphant look crossed his face. "I cursed a lot of them."

Hermione snorted.

"Dumbledore made me give all the things back," he continued, a look of sadness and fury appearing on his face. "I was sad, but then I went back and stole them again. He doesn't know, though," he pressed his fingers to his lips. "Shh."

Hermione wondered if alcohol had the ability to make one act like a three year old. It certainly seemed to have that effect on Riddle. She remembered her last experience with alcohol, and it wasn't a pleasant memory.

"Do you go back to the orphanage often?" she asked, trying but failing to keep the laughter out of her voice. She wanted to run up to her dorm to get a video camera, but was afraid Riddle would decide to stray before she got back. Plus, there was the matter of Tracey, and what the girl would do if she discovered Riddle in this state.

"Yeah, Dumbledore makes me go back there every break." Riddle nodded. "I can go to Abraxas's or Orion's during the summer, but I have to stay at the orphanage for the entire winter break. It's boring. Mrs. Cole makes me help with the Christmas tree." A smirk crossed his face. "I always knock it down."

_Some people just never change_. However, Riddle was reminding her more and more of a prankster rather than the evil mastermind that he was. She would've expected something more subtle. "You were quite the troublemaker."

"I was not," Riddle defended. "I actually spent a lot of time in my room, thinking. I rarely participated in the group events—only when Mrs. Cole made me—and then I'd do my best and ruin everyone's night."

Hermione laughed; yes, that sounded like Riddle. "What do you think about?" she asked curiously.

"I think of Hogwarts a lot," He admitted. "Hogwarts is my home, and people think of their homes a lot, right?" _Not for me._"I also think of my name a lot."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Your name?"

"Yes," he got an excited glint in his eyes. "My name belongs to my stupid muggle father. I'm not going to keep it forever." _Tim._"So I tried to come up with names for myself. Do you want to hear them?"

He looked so happy; Hermione didn't have the heart to say no. "Sure," she shrugged.

"I went with my first and last name," he explained. "Tom Riddle. If you take the 'i' and the 'm' out, you're left with Torddle. I'm Torddle." Riddle made a face. "That just sounds awful. Who wants to be afraid of a turtle?"

Hermione was amused. "True."

"There's also Rod Led." Riddle continued. "But then I'd have an extra 't' left over, and I didn't know where to put it." He turned towards her. "Would you fear someone named Rod Led?"

"No," Hermione said. _But then again, I probably will never fear someone unless they were named Grindelwald._

Riddle didn't seem to notice her expression and kept talking. "But then I found out that I have a middle name. It's Marvolo. It gives me six more letters to work with." He paused. "No…eight…"

"Seven," she corrected, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"Then I came up with my name," he said happily. "It took a long time, but I finally settled with Voldemort. I am Lord Voldemort." He giggled. "You can check if you don't believe it works."

_Lord._ Hermione snorted. Even her father didn't call himself Lord. His followers addressed him by 'My Lord,' but she hadn't heard anyone ever refer to him as 'Lord Grindelwald.' Just Grindelwald was terrifying enough. "No, it's fine. I believe you." She looked at him. He had scooted closer than comfortable, and she moved away. He looked rather disappointed. "Flight of Death?"

"You know French?" He sounded pleased. He reached over and twirled a piece of her hair. Hermione froze and was unable to do anything other than stare at him. "You're so smart, Hermione."

Hermione laughed. "I'd like to see your face when you're sober."

Riddle looked at her. "Why?"

"You'd never be caught dead saying that," she laughed. "You're always obsessed with coming up on the top, so you hate me because you don't want to admit I'm smarter than you."

Riddle was quiet for a while. Hermione thought he had died. She prodded him with a finger. "Riddle?"

"Call me Tom," he said quietly, and then looked at her. His eyes really were quite a sight, and even though his hair was disheveled, he was still quite handsome. Hermione shook that thought out of her mind. _Off limits._ "And I don't hate you."

"No?" Hermione tried to grin it off. "You sure are great at acting then,"

His usual smirk was back on his face. "Of course," he said haughtily. "Tom Riddle settles for no better than perfection."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but fought a smile. She decided she liked Riddle—no, Tom—like this. Sure, he had the intelligent and personality of a kindergartener, but he was fun to be around. Not to mention, she didn't need to be constantly on guard.

_Unless this is his plan to get me to reveal everything_, Hermione though. If that were the case, though, she'd really bow down to his acting skills. Even _she_couldn't act this well.

"Tell me, Hermione," Tom said, propping his head up on his hands. "What do you like to do?"

"Me?" Hermione blinked. "Study, I guess. I can't let studies fall _too_ behind."

"You're the same as me," Tom gave her a huge smile. Hermione wondered if there was a potion she could brew and feed him that would make him forever intoxicated. However, even if she could do it, she would miss their intelligent banters. He was the only one she had met so far who could hold a debate with her. Of course, they didn't see eye to eye, either of them defending their side furiously, but their debates were fun. "No one can understand why I like studying for fun."

"No, we're quite different," Hermione informed him. "I read books that help me get ahead in class. You, on the other hand, read dark books. That's completely different."

Tom frowned at her. "Just because they're dark doesn't mean they're bad."

"Yes, it does. Hence why the books are dark and restricted."

"So…" Tom said slowly, scrunching up his forehead. Hermione almost laughed at the expression he was making. "It's okay to not know something? I thought you wanted to know everything." He paused. "I think dark magic is beautiful."

"Ever hear of the expression, 'ignorance is bliss?'"

Tom frowned at her, but seemingly decided to drop the topic. He moved even closer to her, nearly touching her. Hermione moved away, only to find out that she was on the edge of the sofa. She was about to stand up and excuse herself from this very weird conversation with Tom, and he suddenly said, "I like your hair. It's pretty."

Then he plopped right down, his head on her lap. Hermione could do nothing but gape as the boy who wanted nothing more than to discover her secrets only a few hours ago was lying on her lap peacefully. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe her father had knocked her out. She pinched her arm. It hurt.

"You'd be the first one," she said shakily. "Everyone always says it's a mess, like a lion."

"There's nothing wrong with lions," Tom yawned. "Snakes are just better."

Hermione looked at him. "What if you're a lion and a snake?"

"Then there's something wrong with you," Tom mumbled sleepily.

"Gee, thanks."

"You're in Slytherin now," Tom said, his eyes popping open once more. He stared at her, and then reached for her hand, slipping his into hers. Hermione stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. She had never pictures him to be a lovesick romantic, but the way he was acting right now made her seriously reconsider Tom's image in her mind. "I thought you would be in Gryffindor, but you're in Slytherin." He snuggled, and Hermione felt herself blush. _Get a grip!_ "You're not a lion."

Hermione blinked. He looked up at her expectantly. That seemed to be the equivalent of a compliment in his book. Hermione sighed. "Er, thanks?"

"Good night, Hermione." He fell asleep in her lap, snoring. Hermione stared down at him. People were going to start to come down for breakfast very soon, but she decided to let him rest for a little. For him to act like that definitely signaled that he needed some sleep.

"Mrs. Cole," Tom mumbled, and Hermione jumped at the noise. Who knew Tom sleep talked as well? There was so much about him that she didn't know. "I don't want to dress up for Christmaasss."

Or maybe he didn't sleep talk in general, but now that he was drunk, anything was possible. She smiled at him, aware that she wouldn't be able to do so once he was awake and sober, and started to move his head off of her. However, what he said next made her freeze.

"My head hurts, Amy." Tom whined.

Who was Amy? Hermione dug through her mind, trying to find if she had met the girl before. There was a loving tone in Tom's voice, something Hermione had never heard before. However, much to her displeasure, she couldn't come up with anything. She would just have to get him drunk again and ask him. She was really curious, though. Who knew that Tom actually cared for someone?

Hermione sighed and made to get up, but he circled his arms around her waist. "Don't go," he muttered, not yet awake, but not completely asleep either. "Stay."

_Five minutes_, she told herself. Tom had fallen back asleep, and she eyed his hair. She looked around to make sure that no one else had come down yet, and hesitantly touched it. It was as soft as she imagined, and Hermione didn't know why she was doing it. Maybe he was infecting her with his intoxication, because in a normal situation, she would have never been caught doing this.

He leaned into her touch, though he was still sleeping. Hermione absentmindedly ran her hand through his hair. She glanced around at the clock. She needed to wake him up in ten minutes. She looked down at him. It was a pity; he really was adorable when he slept.

_Of course I will never tell anyone that. Ever._

"Tooom," someone crooned, and Black appeared in the common room. "How was your alcohol? Rise and shine, Grumpy Pants, or your perfect student image will be ruined-" he froze, his mouth open wide. Cygnus and Abraxas who were following him crashed into him, and they too froze and gaped when they saw Hermione. She felt herself turn red as she looked down at Tom, who was still firmly clinging to her waist.

"My eyeees," Black moaned, turning around and covering his eyes. "I'm blind. I'm bliinnnddd."

Hermione sighed. "Black," she said irritably. "We're not doing anything."

Black looked doubtful, but sat down next to her anyways. Cygnus shot her a look which she couldn't interpret, but she was happy to see no anger in them. Maybe there were a lot of negative effects of her meeting with her father, but there were good ones too. Cygnus didn't seem to dislike her as much anymore. Abraxas, however, seemed to take over all his hate and glared at Hermione.

"Don't do it," he said. She blinked at him. He towered over her and looked down at her seriously. "You have no idea how many girls Tom has screwed with. They always end up broken." He swallowed. "Normally, I wouldn't care, but I don't want to see you like that, Hermione."

Hermione could do nothing but gape at him in confusion.

"Abraxas," Black smirked. "If you want to proclaim your undying love for Squirtle, you can just do so. You don't need to insult Tom." He glanced down nervously, but the said boy was still asleep and firmly clutching Hermione's waist.

Abraxas scowled at him. "Shut up. You know that's not it." He crouched down next to Hermione. "Seriously, though. I'm not trying to warn you about him-"

"You are," Black snorted.

Abraxas rolled his eyes. "Okay, so maybe I am. But Tom isn't what you think he is. There's a lot to him that you don't know. _Please_ think about it carefully. I know I can't prevent you from loving Tom if you really do, but please at least step back and look."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, and Abraxas stared at her incredulously. Love Tom? She didn't think it was possible for anyone to love him. Maybe a simple attraction, but he always made sure to destroy a person before they could love him.

"I don't love Tom," she said, the idea absurd even as she said it. "I don't even think we're friends. In case you haven't noticed, he hates me." Hermione decided to keep their conversation a secret.

"Yeah, I can see that," Black eyed Tom. "Which is why he's oozing with his hatred for you as he lies on your lap."

Hermione glared at him. "For your information, I couldn't sleep, so I came down and found Tom here. Drunk. We talked a little, and then he laid down on my lap and fell asleep." Cygnus looked at her and nodded. Maybe he hadn't been able to fall asleep? Hermione didn't blame him. Maybe she should've obliviated his memory for his sake. As she said to Tom before, ignorance is bliss. "Does he get drunk often?"

Black shrugged. "Once a month, maybe. He tells us he's going somewhere, and we get the fabulous task of staying awake until past midnight to make sure he comes back. After he does, we leave him here, because he always stinks of alcohol." Black made a face. Hermione wanted to remind him that _he_ was the one who had drank more than ten glasses at their truth and dare game. "We have to wake up early to make sure his perfect student image is still intact though."

Abraxas looked at her. "Enough about us. Why couldn't you fall asleep?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just thinking."

"Cy couldn't sleep either," Black piped, and Hermione looked over at Cygnus. He had a look of indifference on his face, and Hermione noted that he was still standing. She gestured for him to sit down, and he did. _At least we're civil towards each other now._"He kept whining all night." He laughed as Cygnus scowled at him. _Cygnus, whining? What has the world come to?_"Then there was a period of time he was so quiet, we all thought he actually fell asleep."

_That would be the time where I knocked him out on the field._

"Mrf," Tom made an incoherent sound, and drew all of their eyes to him. His eyes popped open, and Hermione was relieved, yet disappointed when they were back to their usual state. No sign of alcohol and was written on his face. He smirked and looked up at her. "Granger, why are your hands in my hair?"

Hermione blushed, not realizing they were still there. "Sorry."

"Also, why am I on your lap?"

Hermione stared at him as he sat up and looked around. The other three boys nodded in respect, but he didn't notice. He clutched his head and muttered something that sounded like, 'Damn headaches.'

"You don't remember?" Hermione asked timidly.

Tom blinked at her. "Remember what?"

Black laughed. "Obviously something naughty happened down here," he winked, and Hermione scowled at him. "She was even calling you Tom."

A smirk formed on his face and he spun around. Hermione blushed slightly. "You were calling me Tom?" he sounded pleased. For someone who hated his muggle name so much, his actions were certainly contradictory.

"Yeah—er—" Hermione averted her gaze awkwardly. "You were calling me Hermione, and then you told me to call you Tom." He blinked at her. "Er—I can go back to calling you Riddle, if you would like?"

Tom shook his head slowly. "Hermione," he said, and Hermione realized he wasn't talking to her; he was testing the name. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione." A smile spread on his face, and Hermione almost believed that his kindergarten self was back again, when he said haughtily, "I _guess_ I'll give you permission to say my fabulous name."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Tom moaned next to her, clutching his head. "My head is killing me. I think I'll just skip first period and sleep in." He turned towards Abraxas. "What do we have today? Maybe I can just skip the entire day."

Abraxas eyed him. "You have Transfiguration first, Tom. I don't think Dumbledore would be too happy if you were to skip his class because you had a hangover."

Tom groaned and stood up anyway, looking at Hermione. "Do you have hangover potion?"

Hermione scowled at him. "Why would _I_ have hangover potion?"

A smirk formed on his lips. "True. I'll go see Slughorn before breakfast, then. He should have some from last time." He bent down and whispered to Hermione, "You're going to tell me everything that happened last night."

Hermione realized how close they were, but she didn't care. _That_was the Tom Riddle she knew. "My mouth is closed," she told him defiantly.

He chuckled. "You're going to tell me _all_ your secrets," he said. "Including why you were out on the field so late last night."

Hermione felt her body freeze, but kept the smirk on her face. "You'll find that you'll run into dead ends." She whispered at him. "You're not the only one who can interrogate, Tom. Who's Amy?"

A mixture of shock and disbelief crossed his face, but before he could say anything, a high pitched scream reached her ears. Hermione sighed and turned around to meet the livid face of Tracey Parkinson with her dorm mates behind her. Violetta rushed to Cygnus, seeming to be fine, though Hermione doubted Cygnus would ever be the same. He felt guilty. Maybe she should really obliviate his memory sometimes. Violetta noticed the worried look on his face, and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, though his sullen expression was still present.

"You filthy half breed," Walburga snarled. Abraxas shot her a look, but she glared it off. Black snarled at her. "Stop molesting Tom. He's too good for you."

"Molesting?" Hermione blinked, looking at Tom, who had stood up. A look of indifference was on his face once again, though Hermione could see a smirk underneath. "There was no molesting here. If there was any, then it would be _him_ molesting _me_."

"I can't believe you!" Tracey shrieked loudly. Eileen rolled her eyes and headed out of the common room, nodding at Hermione before she left. Tom put a hand on his forehead and grimaced. "You're _hurting_ Tom!"

Hermione stared at her incredulously. "_I'm_ hurting him? I'm not the one screaming."

"Why is he clutching his head, then? I can't believe it." Tracey turned towards Tom. "Tom, it's okay. This witch won't hurt you anymore. I'll protect you." She glared at Hermione. "You stay away from Tom or else I'll-"

"Tracey," Tom said in a quiet voice. Tracey beamed and looked at him, obviously pleased at being addressed. "Shut up or I'll kill you."

A look of pure shock crossed Tracey's face, as the Slytherin Prince crossed the room in huge strides and slammed the door as he left the common room, leaving behind seven Slytherins staring at the spot he had just been in disbelief.

ஐ

Tom had arrived at breakfast as if nothing had happened. His mood had improved significantly. Hermione guessed that Slughorn really did have the hangover potion he so desperately needed. She wondered how many glasses he had to get him so drunk.

Tracey and Walburga had gone back to their happy, bubbly selves. They had decided that Tom was playing 'hard to get,' which they determined enhanced his sexiness. Hermione almost gagged. This was exactly what Tom needed, people who he could treat like crap, and who would still like him afterwards.

She talked with Violetta a little at breakfast, much to the disbelief of her roommates. Violetta didn't seem to care that she would face Tracey's wrath, and instead babbled on and on throughout breakfast. Hermione didn't mind; it was nice to see that she didn't seem to be affected by the incident at all. She had bid Hermione farewell and skipped off to Charms with Abraxas, seemingly happy.

When Hermione got to Transfiguration, she was more than just a little nervous. She was afraid she had 'Grindelwald' stamped over her face, but if Dumbledore noted anything unusual, he didn't say anything. He had merely gone back to Vanishing spells, which they had been practicing over a week ago. He had given them the assignment for homework, telling them it was imperative to practice as the said spell would appear on the O.W.L.s. He gave them mice to work with this time, instead of snails, and sent them on their way.

"So," Cygnus said, once they had gotten their mice. Hermione glanced at him in surprise. He hadn't spoken a word since their meeting in the common room. "I suppose I have to thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," Hermione said quickly. _After all, it is my fault that Violetta ended up in that position in the first place._She waved her wand, happy that she had been practicing, and the mouse disappeared. Cygnus eyed her with…was that _respect_?

"I think I do," Cygnus said quietly. "You saved Violetta while you knew the risks of doing so, though I'm still a little suspicious about how you did it," Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but Cygnus shook his head. "I don't care. I'm not like Tom. I don't need to find out your secrets." He looked at her. "Thanks for not obliviating me."

"I think I should though." Hermione told him. _Because he knows more than he should._"Because watching your friend get kidnapped is something you're not going to forget—ever."

"It was something that I needed to see," Cygnus said. "A reality check."

Hermione nodded as Dumbledore rounded their table. He beamed at her. "Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Granger." He said, and then looked towards Cygnus. "Would you allow me to demonstrate, Mister Black?"

Cygnus shook his head. "It's okay. I'll ask Hermione for help."

Hermione gaped at him, but Dumbledore nodded and moved on to the next table. He looked at her mouth open wide, and he cracked the smallest of smiles, the first one that she had ever seen him make. And it was towards _her_, Hermione Granger! The person he had hated just two days ago.

"I need to apologize as well," Cygnus admitted, turning back towards his mice and waving his wand rather wildly. "I treated you like crap."

This day was getting weirder and weirder. First Tom, and now even Cygnus? "It's okay," she said quickly. "Violetta told me about it."

"Did she?" he turned his dark eyes to her. "What exactly did she say?"

"You don't open up to people because of your past," she said, thinking about her own history. "I respect that."

"Yeah, well, I just don't like people in general," Cygnus vanished one of his mice, and a satisfactory look crossed his face. _Guess I wasn't the only one practicing._"I just use that as an excuse."

"Why don't you like people?" Hermione pried.

Cygnus shrugged. "They're just so annoying. Have you seen Tracey?" Hermione laughed. "I swear she's high every day. I can't come up with another explanation on why she's so annoying."

"So you don't like people because of people like Tracey?" Hermione asked. Cygnus nodded. "Not everyone is like that, you know."

"I know. Like you, for example," He looked at her. "You break every girl cliché there is."

Hermione didn't know whether to be proud of feel offended. "Like what?"

"Squealing." Cygnus shrugged. "Girls always squeal at one point in time. Even Violetta squeals."

"There's nothing that can be gained by squealing, which is why I don't do it," Hermione informed it. "However, you're thinking of girls who overly embrace their feminine side. There are plenty of girls out there who care more about boys and gossip."

Cygnus nodded, and then suddenly said, "So how's Tom?"

Hermione blinked. "What about him?"

"Well," A small sign of a grin appeared on his face, and Hermione could finally see the resemblance between him and his twin. "There are a lot of rumors going around about you and Tom, so I thought I'd just cut the crap and listen to it first-handedly."

"There's nothing," Hermione said hotly. "going on between Tom and me."

"You sure about that?" Tom said, smirking as he passed by their table. He returned a disheveled mouse to the box. One look at Eileen informed Hermione that the two of them were still bickering, and the mouse was an unfortunate accident to their fight.

"I'm perfectly sure," Hermione said crossly. "What did you do to Eileen?"

"She was interrogating me," Tom said plainly. "I still have my headache, so her voice was nauseating to listen to." He smirked. "Not that her voice isn't nauseating when I'm completely sober."

"Let me guess, you told her to shut up like you did to Tracey this morning."

Tom's lips curled upwards. "Of course I did," he drawled. "She's rather angry at me now." He cast Hermione a sideways look. "You should ask her if she has feelings for me."

Hermione stared at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"My ego is not quite yet big enough," Tom informed her, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Cygnus made a sound that sounded like a snort, but he covered it up with coughs when the two of them looked at him.

"Mister Riddle," Dumbledore came back, and Hermione was surprised to see displeasure etched on his face. The same expression was written on Tom's. "I would appreciate if you would go back to your seat."

Tom didn't say anything and spun on his heels and walked away. Dumbledore didn't cast neither she nor Cygnus another glance and walked away. Hermione frowned. She hadn't believed it with Tom said that Dumbledore made him go back to the orphanage every break—a place Tom obviously hated—but it seemed possible now.

Cygnus nudged her. "Are you going to ask him out to the Halloween Dance?"

Hermione blinked at him. "What's the Halloween Dance?"

"It's a dance on Halloween."

Hermione looked at him. "No, really?"

Cygnus gave her a small smile. "It's one of the three dances of the school year. This is by far the smallest one, though people dress up and act like idiots, so it's cool. It's a pre-dance to the Christmas ball, which is pretty huge." Cygnus rolled his eyes. "According to Tracey's endless babbling, anyone who dances at the Halloween Dance has a bigger chance of being together at the Christmas ball. And she, being the ever romantic, says that if two people kiss at midnight then, they will be happily in love forever."

"Give me a break," Hermione muttered under her breath. "We don't live in a fairytale."

"The girls usually worry more about dances than boys," Cygnus continued. "So you should hear your dorm mates squabbling about it in a few days. I'm surprised they didn't start already. They're going to ask Tom, of course, like they do every year. Why they do, I have no idea." Cygnus looked at her. "This is a dance where no one dances."

"Really." Hermione deadpanned. The event sounded dreadfully boring. She always thought the whole process of working up the nerve to ask a guy to dance was dumb. Not to mention, she couldn't even dance. "What do you do, then?"

"We have a paintball battle." Cygnus said simply. Hermione gaped at him. "The girls choose to sit out most years. Tracey, because she doesn't want to get paint in her clothing, and Violetta because she's not in any condition to run around."

Hermione blinked. The idea sounded so muggle, she couldn't believe that a group of Slytherin purebloods were the ones playing it. "What about Tom?"

"He plays, though Orion often says it's because he wants to defend his manliness." Hermione rolled her eyes. "He doesn't do anything, though, but he somehow avoids getting hit by everyone. Everyone thinks he's using magic, but his wand is where everyone else's wand is, so we can't do anything about it."

"Doesn't that mean that whoever has him on their team wins the game automatically?" Hermione asked. This sounded ten times better than the dance itself.

"It used to be like that, but they decided it wasn't fair," Cygnus shrugged. "Now, there's a time limit. At the end of five minutes, whichever team has more people not hit wins. And it's not only Tom who's good. Eleanor is pretty good herself." Catching the look Hermione gave him, he added, "Eleanor is the only girl who plays. She's extremely athletic, since she plays Quidditch, but none of the guys feel right to hit her."

"Do you play?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Yeah," Cygnus grumbled. "But only because Orion begs me every year to play. I am more than content in sitting out with Violetta, but she wants me to play as well, so I can't say no to both of them."

Hermione nodded respectfully. She remembered what Orion had said about him. _If he likes you, he'll do anything for you._ Hermione could see that was true. He may not care for many people, but it was evident just how much love he had for the people he did care about.

Dumbledore dismissed the class, and Hermione saw Tom waiting for her to go to Ancient Runes. He leaned against the wall with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Eileen looked visibly upset as she left the classroom alone. Hermione's mind whirled. Since when did Eileen fancy Tom? How did she miss it?

"See you around," Cygnus said to her. If someone had told her yesterday that Cygnus was going to be this civil towards her, she wouldn't have believed it. However, it was happening now. Hermione really wondered if both Tom and Cygnus were playing pranks on her. "You should consider playing in the tournament. I'd request for you to be on my team."

Hermione was left to gap at his retreating back as he left with Orion. She couldn't help but wonder if someone had replaced him with an imposter at the time when she was gone trying to get Violetta back. It certainly seemed like a plausible scenario.

ஐ

The day, which had started off almost like a dream, ended in a nightmare.

She lost to Tom. She _lost_. He had handed in his Ancient Runes paper just 0.1432 seconds before she did, but that was bad enough for her. The smirk and the 'I win,' he gave her afterwards didn't help her temper at all.

"Hey," someone said, and Hermione looked up from her stack of books. Nick grinned and her and plopped down next to her. "What's up? You look like you swallowed a lemon." Hermione opened her mouth, but Nick stopped her. "No, let me guess. You weren't top in your class and it's pissing you off."

Hermione grumbled. He knew her so well. "I'm supposed to be good at Ancient Runes," she said.

Nick laughed and scanned the book in front of her. She had decided to focus more on the said subject for awhile. "Hermione, you _are_ good at Ancient Runes. This is stuff we don't learn until seventh year. Chill, Riddle's a robot."

"Yeah, but he has more OWLs than I do," Hermione mumbled, reading furiously. She didn't get half of the stuff, and that thought scared her. "If I can't even beat him in regular classes, how on earth am I going to be the top of our year?"

Nick laughed and sat back leisurely. "Isn't that supposed to be my line? You're doing fine. You're still the top girl in your year anyway. You can't win them all."

Hermione scowled, but said nothing. Nick just didn't get it. She _had_ to beat Tom. She couldn't live with herself if she let him beat her. It would haunt her forever.

"So how's it going?" Nick asked when she didn't argue. "Was your meeting with your father okay?"

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, it was as well as it _could_ be, considering him-" She paused and narrowed her eyes. "Wait, how do you know about it?"

Nick whistled and looked away, trying to look innocent. "Whoops."

Hermione eyed him. "_Nick._"

Nick held his hands up. "I am very disappointed that you didn't come running to me crying the second you got back," he teased. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "I was on my way back to the common room, when I saw Cygnus running around and panicking. He was asking where you were." Nick snorted. "As if I knew."

"That still doesn't explain how you know, though." Hermione said suspiciously.

"He was clutching Grindelwald's sign in his hands. It was quite easy to place together." Nick looked at her seriously. "Did he manage to figure it out? That you and Grindelwald were, you know…"

"Shh," Hermione looked around, but there was no one anywhere close to them. "No. He saw me duel in DADA, which is why he asked me. Apparently, he didn't want to bother Tom with his problems."

"Tom." Nick repeated, a smirk crossing his face. "You're on first name basis now? Took you long enough." Hermione smacked his arm. "Never mind that. So how was he? Did he punish you too badly?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Just reminding me of my place."

Nick pulled her into a hug. "I want you to be careful," he told her. "He's a dangerous man."

Hermione laughed shakily. "I don't need you to tell me that, Nick."

Nick studied her for a while. "He's threatening you with me, isn't he?" Hermione's silence confirmed his suspicions. "I'm an idiot. I should have never gotten close to you again. I'm putting you in a bad position."

He moved to stand up, but Hermione gripped the front of his robes. "No!" she said. "If you leave me, I don't know what I'd do. Please, we'll work it out. I just want you to be careful."

"I told you not to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Please," Hermione buried her head in the front of his robes. "Please don't go."

Nick sighed and patted her head awkwardly. "However, if you get hurt because of me, I'm not going to stay. Are we clear?"

Before Hermione had a chance to respond, another voice said, "Aw, the two lover's reunite." Tom popped out of nowhere and sat himself opposite of them, a smirk present on his face. "How incredibly…sappy."

"Hi Tom." Hermione detached herself from Nick and smoothed the front of her robes. "What brings you here?"

"Studying," he shrugged, taking some books out of his bag. "Can't let my studies slip." He yawned and stretched lazily. "I think I'm good in Ancient Runes, though. I can't say the same for you," he reached for Hermione's book and she scowled at him.

"Pretty advanced topics here," he noted, scanning over the pages briefly. "It looks like you're going all out to beat someone. Who's the lucky guy?"

Hermione growled at him, and then snatched her textbook back. "None of your business."

"No need to get so defensive. I was only asking." Tom said calmly, opening his own books. Hermione gaped at him as he made himself comfortable and started studying. She traded looks with Nick, but he just shrugged.

"So," Nick finally broke the silence. Both of them looked at him. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Nick Porter."

"Tom Riddle," Tom didn't even look up from his writing.

"You're good at dueling," Nick tried.

"Thanks."

This clearly was not working. "Tom," she said irritably, and he smirked at her, finally putting down his quill. "If you want to eavesdrop on us, you should be more subtle about it. We're not going to say anything, so you might as well stop pretending to do your homework."

"Who says I'm eavesdropping?" Tom raised an eyebrow, though he leaned back in his chair leisurely. "Maybe I just want to spend time with the two newest students."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's what it is."

Tom regarded him for awhile, and the two of them stared each other down. Hermione twitched uncomfortably next to them, before Tom broke eye contact and turned towards Hermione with a pleasant smile on his face. "It's Hogsmeade weekend this Sunday. Are you coming?"

"Erm…" she was planning on not going, but if she said so now, he would become suspicious. She would just have to find a way around the permission slip. "Of course I am."

Tom nodded as though that was the response he had anticipated. Nick shot her a look, but she ignored him. "Great," Tom said. "I'll send Orion and Abraxas to accompany you."

Hermione crossed her arms. "I don't need someone to accompany me."

A smirk crossed his face. "Sure you don't."

"You should go," Nick spoke up, looking towards the left. Hermione rolled her eyes as the two of them glared at each other. "Your fan club is waiting, and I, unlike you, came here to study." That was a big lie, and Hermione glanced at him. He rolled his eyes at her. "If you want to listen to your squabbling admirers, take it outside. Pince is going to have your head if you stay."

"For your information, I have no interest in listen to their squabbling," Tom massaged his head. His headache must not have gone away completely yet. "I think I'll go back to the dorm. They haven't tried coming in there…yet."

And so Hermione watch, rather amused, as the Slytherin prince took off running to hide from his fan girls. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if a little bit of the kindergarten him was still showing. There was obviously something still very wrong with his head. He had only gotten about half an hour of sleep, so Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he were still intoxicated.

Hermione was about to turn back towards her work when she noticed something. After Tom had left the library, a shadow had come out from behind the book shelves and stalked after him. She narrowed her eyes. It was a girl, so it was possible that she was the spy her father had talked about. However, she was too far away for Hermione to see her identity. _Who was she_?

Nick followed her line of sight and sighed. "Hermione, I want you to promise me something."

There was something in his voice that made her tear her eyes away from the spy who was exiting the library to look at him. "What is it?"

"I want you to stay away from Eileen."

**Author's Note**: You have no idea how many times I wrote 'Riddle' and had to replace it with 'Tom.'


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **Walala, quick update. Enjoy the chapter one day early. I'm back to my usual style (meaning Tom is not all loopy and drunk and immature anymore…well, can't promise on the last one.) Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks for all your reviews! :)

loves2readalways, Vanilla Sensation, Mighty Ruler Of Gummy Bears, ThePsychoFairy, Zombie Reine, Kareanna, Aeriead, Ashies, andiescandieee, Angellwriter, Allie Riddle, CathyCullen16, TheGirlonFire52, hatami

***CathyCullen16: Sorry for the errors, lol. I try to look out for them, but I'm no English expert. I was also rushing with last chapter, so when I finally stop rushing myself and give myself more time between chapters, it should get better…hopefully…

* * *

><p>Hermione watched Eileen, but the girl didn't do anything suspicious. Hermione had given up after a couple of days, but Nick continued to watch her through suspicious eyes. Hermione finally agreed that she would watch out for her, and that seemed to appease Nick. However, the more Hermione looked at it, the more Eileen looked like a regular schoolgirl with a blossoming crush on Tom.<p>

Nick, however, still stalked her like a wolf. And he would not, under any circumstances, tell Hermione why he was suspicious of Eileen. She found it rather annoying, though she had to admit, it was almost as if Eileen knew they were watching her. She went out of her way to be extra nice to both Hermione and Nick, though the latter didn't appreciate it at all.

"There you are," Hermione spun around and saw Tom walking down from his dorm. His offered her a small smirk, which she returned. "Orion and Cygnus should be coming soon."

Hogsmeade. The trip she had dreaded, she had now come to anticipate. Nick had come up to her one day and told her that he had gotten Dippet to allow them to go to Hogsmeade. Hermione had questioned him why, but she got a grin in return. Well, she wasn't going to argue with him. He made her life easier, and she wasn't going to complain to him.

"Not Abraxas?" she asked, surprised.

"Eleanor asked him to go with her," Tom said smoothly, an amused expression appearing on his face. "Orion has invited you to follow them around for blackmail material."

Hermione snorted. Abraxas would regret ever telling Black about it. "And you?"

Tom studied her for a moment, and then glanced around. Other than the two of them, the common room was otherwise empty. They still had a good ten minutes before the other students started coming down from their dorms. "I need to investigate."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Investigate what?"

"I was placed under the Imperius recently," Tom said, as easily as if he were talking about the weather. Hermione stared at him. "I think you'll remember the day. It was the morning following the night that I got drunk. Ring any bells?"

Hermione nodded, still gaping at him.

"In case you haven't noticed, I don't usually act like that," Tom snorted. "The person must have gotten me on my way to Slughorn for hangover potion. I didn't see their face, though," he frowned. "I can't believe I let myself get caught."

He seemed more annoyed at the thought that someone had managed to curse him rather than the fact that he was placed under one of the unforgivable. "Are you sure?" Hermione eyed him. "You didn't do anything _too_ bad to be under the Imperius. Just a little loopy here and there."

Tom smirked. "Hermione, when will you learn that I have much better techniques at finding out information? I do not need to sit down at the same table with you and your boyfriend and pretend to eavesdrop. That's just pathetic."

Hermione frowned at him. "How do you know about that?"

"You underestimate me," Tom said smoothly. "Even though I was stupid enough to be placed under the curse doesn't mean it can control me completely. I am Tom Riddle. I will be controlled by no one," he said haughtily.

"Of course not," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So naturally, I still had conscious," Tom said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Though it is unusual to see an Imperius that strong. In fact, I don't think I've seen anyone's stronger." Hermione scowled at him. "I haven't seen yours, so I can't say. Obviously, mine's the strongest, though theirs comes in second." Tom paused. "Though there's still quite a stretch between theirs and mine."

"And you claim your ego isn't big enough," Hermione muttered.

Tom shot her a grin, before his face became murderous. "I'm going to track down whoever is behind this," he growled angrily. He was quite scary when he was furious, Hermione decided. Though she had an inkling on who was responsible. _The spy. What could she possibly want?_ "No one manipulates Tom Riddle and gets away with it. _No one_."

"I don't know," Hermione replied cheerfully. "I think I'm doing a pretty good job at it."

Tom cast her a sideways glance. "You're exceptionally good at pissing people off," he noted. "It must be a talent."

"You must have it too, then," Hermione told him cheerfully. "I think you may even surpass me in being the most annoying human being on earth. You can never give straight answers."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I can't? Ask me something,"

"Who's Amy?"

Tom blinked at her, and then a smirk formed on his face. Hermione sighed; that generally meant he wasn't going to answer her question. But then again, he _never_ answered her questions, so that was nothing new. "Why do you want do know?" he questioned haughtily. "Are you jealous?"

Hermione snorted. "For all I know, she could be your mom."

Tom's face shut down and he looked away. Hermione didn't miss the angry glare on his face as he stared at the wall. "No," he hissed. "If she were my mother, I would be a filthy mudblood."

Hermione stared at him. Amy was a muggleborn? The same Amy that Tom had spoke so fondly about in his sleep? What was the world coming to? Maybe Tom had once loved her, except she did something so tragic that he felt the need to reject all muggleborns. Still. The word danced around her mind. _Muggleborn, muggleborn, muggleborn._

Hermione snuck a glance at Tom and saw his murderous features had been smoothed out into a grin. _Yep_, Hermione thought sarcastically. _This is definitely the same boy who gave flowers to his love and proclaimed his undying love for her._

Somehow, Hermione couldn't see that ever happening.

"So what about you?" he asked. "Any long lost loves I should hear about? Wait, don't tell me—is Nick actually your father?"

_I wish._ "No, not that I know of," She eyed him. "Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"I don't know," Tom shrugged, smirking. "If we're going to be friends and all, I figure we might as well get to know each other better."

"Friends?" Hermione looked at him. "Who said we're friends?"

"I kind of inferred it," Tom said simply. "After you came begging to call me by my first name. I think we're past the acquaintance part, don't you?"

Hermione flushed angrily. "It was the other way around, for your information." She paused. "I can call you Lord Voldemort if you want?"

As soon as it left her lips, Tom had her pinned against the wall. He looked around, seemingly relieved that no one was there yet, and then turned back towards her. His eyes, which were now slightly red, burned holes into her head. His hand inched towards his pocket where his wand lay, and she eyed it cautiously, her hand moving towards her wand as well.

"How do you know that name?" he hissed at her.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Just some drunk psychopath decided to share his childhood with me." A blank expression crossed his face. "Though I can't it's the most interesting childhood I've ever heard. Coming up with names for yourself? I personally would've tried blowing something up."

"I told you?" he asked in disbelief.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You can remember while you were under the Imperius, yet you can't remember when you were drunk? Just how much did you drink, anyway?"

"I can't remember," he said shortly. "I lost track."

"Why do you get drunk, anyway? You know you're breaking about fifty school rules," she pressed on, looking at him expectantly.

He smirked and stepped away from her, allowing her some space between him and the wall. Hermione felt the sudden loss of his body heat. "You've hit a dead end, Hermione."

Hermione shrugged. "Worth a shot."

He looked amused. "So, what else did you hear?"

"Nothing that important. Sorry, I'll pry harder next time." Riddle smirked at her. "I obviously heard a little about Amy, but it gave me more questions than answers."

"Now you know how it feels like to be me," Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Every time I interrogate you, you're more willing to spend the effort to find elaborate ways to avoid the question than to just tell me the answer."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Unlike him, she couldn't say the truth unless she had a death wish. "You also mentioned that you went back to the orphanage at breaks," Tom tensed at that. "At least now I know why you hate Dumbledore so much."

Tom looked at her, and she was surprised to see that his eyes were empty. "I hate him for making me go there." He shuddered. "Being surrounded by all those mudbloods…it just isn't right. I'm better than they are. I shouldn't be forced to live like them."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She would've expected someone who was pureblooded to be _this_ prejudice, certainly not a half blood. Maybe he was more similar to her father than she thought. Hermione shuddered when she thought of the icy blue eyes staring at her, no emotion in them.

"Hey," Tom studied her. He had noticed her awkward pause, but surprisingly did not seem to comment on it. "Am I rewarded for answering your questions? Do I get to ask you some as well?"

"Since when do you ask?" Hermione laughed. "You can ask, and I will answer if they're reasonable."

Tom looked at her. "That's not fair, is it? After all, I answered everything you asked. Though, I must say, it was rather low," he smirked. "Taking advantage of me while I'm drunk?"

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled at him. "You made yourself drunk. Not my problem. You also seem to be forgetting a truth and dare game that had you in the same position in me."

"True," he looked at her, amused. "I have to say, though, that ending was rather enjoyable." He grinned as she blushed. "Want to repeat it?"

"Just ask your damn question, Riddle."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Oh, we're back to last names already? Alright then, Granger, where did you come from?"

"You already know the answer. I don't see why you keep asking. Do you want me to lecture you on the anatomy system?"

"I think I'll pass," Tom said coolly. _Because Merlin forbid Tom Riddle ever be taught by anyone._ "Country, Hermione."

She didn't know why she told him. Perhaps she thought that he wouldn't make the association. After all, very little people spent time to investigate things like this. "Russia."

"Have you met Grindelwald?" Hermione wanted to groan. Of course he'd know. Tom looked at her with his blank mask, but underneath, Hermione could see a sign of…excitement? Oh no, that was bad. If Tom joined her father, is wouldn't be good. Strike that, the world would end. Not even Dumbledore could stop the both of them.

"Erm, yes," Hermione said timidly. "A couple of times, when we were escaping. Scary man."

Tom looked gleefully at Hermione, and she was suddenly very scared about what he was planning to do. "Promise me you'll take me to Russia during one of the breaks," he said, surprising her. "I'll ask Dippet; surely, he'll be able to convince Dumbledore if he knows I'm going with you."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "And what exactly are you going to do in Russia?"

"What do you think?" Tom looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm going to go find and meet Grindelwald, of course."

Hermione felt her blood temperature drop ten degrees. "And what are you going to do once you find Grindelwald?" she asked slowly, fearing his answer.

"The most logical thing it would be if I were to find him," Tom said simply, and Hermione stared at him in horror. "I'm going to kill him, of course."

Hermione blinked and nearly fell over. Instead, she managed to catch herself and gaped with her mouth open at Tom. He finally turned around and stared at her. "What's your problem? Cat got your tongue?"

"No," Hermione said, still thoroughly shocked. "You want to kill him?"

"Yes?" he was eyeing her suspiciously now. "Isn't that what most people want to do?"

"No, but," Hermione struggled with getting her words out. "I didn't think that you were going to help the wizarding world with catching a criminal. I was under the assumption that you liked to spend your time studying…darker things."

"That assumption is correct, and it still stands," he informed her. "I'm not doing it for anyone's benefit, but my own," Catching her confused expression, he sighed. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Do I have to spell it out for you? If there's one dark lord existing, there is no place for another."

"Oh," Understanding dawned Hermione. _He wants to defeat Father so he can take over? _She almost snorted. _Well, good luck. Tom Riddle or not, if it were that easy, it would've been done a long time ago. _"So essentially, it doesn't matter if it's Grindelwald or not. Even if he's the super good guy, you would still kill him?"

"If he was a super good guy, he wouldn't be called the Dark Lord," Tom snorted. "But, yes. As long as the person gets in my way, it is my duty to eliminate them."

Hermione stared at him. "Should you be telling me this?"

"No, but I am. I trust you will not run off and tell anyone. After all, my plan is noble." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just keep in mind that you yourself seem to have more secrets than you can manage. Feel free to tell the professors what I have just said, but you have no proof, and I am a prefect. Not only that, but I am _the_ Tom Riddle." He smirked. "No one would believe you, and I could slightly hint your secrets, and you'll watch the power of jealous Hogwarts girls." _Oh, I have no doubt how scary Tracey can be when she's angry. _

Hermione sighed. "You're a very bad person to make an enemy, you know that?"

"Of course," Tom said, his voice sickeningly sweet. "But since we're friends now, you don't need to worry about that, do you?"

He got a scowl in response.

ஐ

"Cy, if you walk any slower, they will have gotten past all the interesting stuff by the time we get there." Black was unusually cheerful as he, Cygnus, Hermione and Violetta made their way through Hogsmeade. "Pick up the pace. There'll be more time to snog Violetta later. We're on a mission."

Tracey and Walburga had been devastated when they found out Tom wasn't coming. Of course Tracey had blamed Hermione, saying that she contaminated him with her presence. Walburga had sauntered off to go join Avery and Lestrange, who seemed quite willing to let a girl come with them. Tracey had scowled and stalked after Tom. She wouldn't be finding him anytime soon though; if Tom didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

"I'm not snogging her," Cygnus said, catching up to Black and Hermione. Violetta was blushing next to him, and Hermione sent her an encouraging smile. "Why do we have to follow them, anyway? You know about Abraxas's no dating policy. They'll most likely talk over a glass of butter beer, and then part ways."

"Yes, but in case Abraxas happens to break his policy, I'll be there to witness it," Black had a devilish glint in his eyes. "Oh yes, blackmail material, here I come!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Violetta caught up to her. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" she asked. "If you find this boring, I know a few stores here that are quite good."

"I find this entertaining, actually," Hermione grinned. "But if you want to go somewhere, I'll go with you as well."

Violetta shook her head, and Hermione saw that she was eyeing the back of Cygnus's head as he and his brother had a heated debate about Cornish pixies. Hermione leaned over and whispered to her, "Do you want me to distract Black so you and Cygnus can have some private time?"

"No," Violetta smiled at her. "It's okay."

"You sure?" Hermione looked at her. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm sure I'll survive Black's dreadful singing. In what condition, though, I can't say."

"I think Cy needs this time with his brother," Violetta said quietly. "I take separate the two of them too often."

Hermione grinned. "I get your point. Alright, but my offer still stands if you want it."

Violetta smiled ruefully at her. "So what about your friend? I would've expected him to be here by now. He's rather late, isn't he?"

"Nick?" Hermione asked, surprised. Violetta nodded. "Nick's not coming today. He got himself a date," she couldn't prevent herself from laughing. She _had_ laughed when Nick told her. He hadn't seemed too offended, anyway. "Lily Evans asked him to accompany her today."

"Lily?" Violetta said, staring. "I don't know her well. She's in my charms class."

"I've never spoken to her before," Hermione said. "But apparently Nick has, so the two of them are in their own lala land for today. I know better than to bother them."

Violetta nodded as Black called from ahead of them, "Yo, Squirtle! Violetta! Come check out these exploding snap!"

"I thought you were supposed to be tailing Abraxas," Hermione replied. Cygnus rolled his eyes and dragged his brother from kissing the window of the store.

"I am," Black said crossly, prying himself away from Cygnus's grasp. "Just because we're on a mission doesn't mean we can't have a little detours, right?"

_Tell that to my father. _Hermione spotted Eleanor's long blonde hair. Next to her, she spotted Abraxas's aristocracy robes. His hair was combed back elegantly, and he smiled down at his companion. "They're over there," she pointed. "Stop talking so loudly. They're going to hear."

"Alright, everyone," Black was officially in business mode. "Act like a ninja, and we'll be fine."

Cygnus rolled his eyes again, but immediately looked concerned when Violetta started coughing. Even Black's smile slid off his face as he glanced worriedly at her.

"Are you—er—okay?" It was evident that he wasn't as smooth with her as he was with the other girls. Maybe it was because Violetta was around so much, he thought of her as a sister. Whatever it was, there was no sign of the flirtatious young man that Hermione had been so used to seeing."Do you want to go back? I don't want to force you to come if you don't want to."

"No, I'm fine," Indeed, the coughing fit passed, and she looked as healthy as she always did. However, her cheeks were paler than usual, which was saying a lot. "However, I think I should stay here. If I start coughing again, I'll give away your hiding spot."

"Nonsense," Black waved her off. "You're one of the masterminds in this whole operation. We need you here." _That_, Hermione thought, _is laying it a little thick_. _You came up with this whole thing, Black, and you dragged us in to it. _Violetta seemed to think so as well, as she shot Black a look. The boy didn't seem to notice. "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime, though, just tell Cy. I'm sure he won't mind giving you a piggyback ride back to Hogwarts. Who knows, he might even stay and be your personal nurse."

Cygnus swatted at him angrily. Violetta squeaked, and Hermione looked at her in amusement. She tugged Hermione's arm and dragged her in to the nearest store. "Come on!" she said, her face completely red. Black and Cygnus turned around to see what the commotion was about. Hermione stared at her. "Look, there's Quidditch gear in here. Let's go check it out."

Hermione wanted to groan. Out of all the stores, she couldn't have picked a worse one to go to. Black's face immediately lit up, and he dragged his protesting brother inside with him, ranting. Hermione looked at Violetta, who suddenly realized what she had done, and paled

Hermione laughed. "Consider mission Abraxas officially over," she said. "You'll be lucky to get him back before curfew." Violetta sighed. "Now," Hermione looped her arm around Violetta's. "What do you say we go explore this town a little?"

"But Cy," Violetta looked doubtfully back to where Cygnus stood in the store, crossing his arms and looking rather ticked off. Black was waving his hand wildly and speaking quickly.

"You said they needed some bonding time," Hermione reminded cheerfully. "Looks like they're bonding to me."

Violetta still looked reluctant, but follow Hermione anyway. "So, where to?" she asked. "If you want to go to the makeup store, though, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I think I've memorized the entire store already." She shrugged. "Tracey's presence and all."

"Do I seem like a makeup girl to you?" Hermione snorted. "If you wanted to go to a makeup store, fine with me. I'll wait outside. There are way too many giggling girls there." The sad thing was, the name 'Tom Riddle' popped up at least once every five seconds. Hermione sighed.

"Let's just wander around?" Violetta suggested.

"Yes, good idea. Why don't we-" She stopped and stared as Abraxas spotted them and waved cheerily. Eleanor didn't look too happy. Gulping, Hermione turned towards Violetta. "Do you think he saw me, or was he waving to someone else?"

Violetta giggled. "Definitely you."

Hermione groaned. "Black's going to kill me."

"Hey, Hermione!" Abraxas said, reaching them. Eleanor's face matched Tracey's, and an ugly scowl formed on her face. _Someone has a teensy little crush on Abraxas._ "Hey, Violetta. What are you two ladies doing out here?"

"It's Hogsmeade weekend, Abraxas," Hermione informed him. "Hence why everyone is out here in Hogsmeade right now."

"You never know," Abraxas grinned. "There are some people who aren't here right now. Tom's not here, for example," he looked at her. "Do you know why?"

Abraxas didn't know? Hermione felt a strange sense of happiness that Tom had confided in her and not Abraxas. _Snap out of it, Hermione. You're not one of his stupid fan girls._

Hermione shook her head. "Well, Violetta and I were just going to head off. Nice to see you here, Abraxas. Eleanor." She nodded her head, and the other girl stared back at her.

"Wait," Abraxas said. "Did the two of you come here by yourself?"

Hermione was about to open her mouth to say yes, when Violetta blurted out, "No, we came with Cy and Orion. They're in the Quidditch shop."

Hermione wanted to groan. Once again, Violetta had said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Abraxas's eyes immediately lit up. "Quidditch, you say?" Before anyone could say anything else, his blonde hair disappeared in the crowd.

"Thanks," Eleanor said stiffly, crossing her arms. Much to Hermione's relief, though, she did not yell at Violetta like Tracey always did. "Just when I was making progress."

"Sorry," Violetta mumbled, looking down. "Do you like Abraxas, Eleanor?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Obviously, or I wouldn't have asked him to come with me today," She looked to her right. "Excuse me, but I'm going to see if there's any Quidditch items I can buy."

"Or any Quidditch players I can entertain," Hermione muttered under her breath, but Eleanor was already gone. Hermione sighed; the Quidditch store was about to get a lot of business today. Three wealthy purebloods could probably buy the whole store and not even bat an eye. She turned towards Violetta. "Now that it's back to the two of us, where do you suppose we go?"

"Here, I have somewhere I want you to see," Violetta nodded, dragging Hermione towards the back alley. "It's not far."

Hermione let herself get pulled away, but not before spotting Nick's bright blue hair amidst the crowd. Lily Evan's red hair contrasted his, and she seemed to be talking amiably, her green eyes sparkling. Minerva was nowhere to be seen. Hermione wondered if she had even come to Hogsmeade. Hermione wouldn't be surprised is she stayed in Hogwarts to study. It's what _she _herself would've done, but she figured that coming out once in awhile couldn't hurt.

_I also need to improve my Ancient Runes skills, though_, Hermione thought irritably. _I have loads of work waiting for me._

Nick caught her eye and sent her a smirk. She stuck her tongue out at him in response. Lily Evans finally realized that Nick wasn't listening to what she was saying, and followed his line of sight. Hermione nodded at her, and Lily took in the color of her robes and looked away. Nick shot her an apologetic look, but Hermione waved him off.

Violetta was watching the interaction. "Do you want to go talk to him? I wouldn't mind waiting."

Hermione looked at Lily and shook her head. "No, I don't think I'd be too welcome over there, anyway." _Yup_, Hermione thought as she watched Lily drape herself over Nick. Nick had a polite look on his face, but when Lily wasn't looking, he made a face. Hermione giggled. _I don't want to go over there either._

Violetta led her to an abandoned alley, and Hermione looked around curiously. There was nothing of interest besides the dirty tattered walls of the buildings looming over them. Hermione suddenly stared suspiciously at Violetta, who was singing as she skipped along. What if this was a plan to get her in a confined area and disarm her? What if she was the spy?

Hermione stuck her wand in her pocket just in case anything fishy happened. If there was something she learned from her father, and most of all, Tom, it was that appearances meant absolutely nothing.

Violetta arrived at a pile of branches and leaves and brushed them aside. Hermione stood a distance away so she could see inside, but wasn't close enough to be pushed inside. There was a tunnel, and at the very bottom, Hermione saw some color. She squinted slightly, and saw they were tulips.

"This was always a special spot for Cy and me." Violetta said softly. "We used to hide here when Orion, Abraxas, Cy and I were playing hide and seek. Orion and Abraxas never discovered this place." Again, Hermione was struck with amazement on how such prestigious purebloods were playing such a muggle game.

"Should you be telling me, then?" Hermione grinned. "Your secret is out."

Violetta shook her head. "Those days are long past…" she paused, and stared into the distance. "My mother died of the same disease I have last year. I came here to cry a lot. For me, this little dirty tunnel represents my childhood. Cy and I planted the flowers." She looked at Hermione, and Hermione was shocked to see her eyes brimming with tears. "Is it stupid that I can't let go?"

"No," Hermione said quietly, taking the girl's hand in her own. "You can cry. There's no one here but me, and I can turn around if you would like."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that,"

Hermione spun around to be greeted by four wizards. They were obviously poor, judging by the state of their robes, and they smiled crookedly at her. "What's little pretty girls like you doing here? Don't you know to steer clear of dark alleys?" One of the men laughed. "Beware of the big bad wolves."

"Nothing," Hermione said coldly, her eyes hard. She thrust the trembling Violetta behind her, shielding the girl with her body. "We were just going to leave."

"I don't think so," the leader, who was at least a feet taller than her, slowly approached them. Hermione backed the two of them up slowly, her eyes narrowed. Suddenly, without warning, the man took out his wand and pointed it down the tunnel.

Violetta sobbed as the flowers turned brown and wilted away. The men howled with laughter, and the leader looked quite pleased with himself. _Sick, sad bastards. _"Like that, little girl?" he asked, smiling widely. "There's more where that comes from, if you come with me."

"You're sick," Hermione said. "If you think you can please a girl by killing her most prized possession, then there's something seriously wrong with your head."

The man didn't seem at all fazed by her threat. "Save the talk for later, missy." He made a motion with his hand, and all of a sudden, Hermione found four wands pointed at her. She drew her own as well, which made the man look even gleeful. "You're going to fight us?" he looked over his shoulder. "She's going to fight us."

Apparently, the men liked the idea and wolf whistles met her ears. Hermione almost jumped when Violetta pressed her mouth to her ear. "I have a necklace," she whispered. "Cy gave it to me two years ago. I pressed it. He should be coming now-"

Her voice was abruptly cut off and Hermione turned around, eyes wide. A large bulky man held a squirming Violetta by her neck, a cruel grin on his face as he choked the life out of her. _Just how many of them are there?_

"Drop your wand," he said in a scruffy wand. "Drop it or she dies."

_Déjà vu moment. _Hermione thought. _This is like Tim, except this time, they have a hostage. _Gritting her teeth, she took her wand slowly out of her pocket, flashed it at them for all to see, and then threw it at the leader's feet. _Damn, I knew I should've brought a spare wand. _The leader looked at it eagerly, licked his lips, and then picked it up. He played with it with his hands.

_Great, I'm going to get cursed with my own wand. _

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. Violetta had wisely kept quiet, and the bulky man seemed to be loosening his grip. If she could just stall for another few seconds, it might open up for her to—

"Violetta!" Hermione wanted to cry. They had the worse timing. Cygnus stood at the alley's entrance, his face red from running. Behind him, Black stood, his eyes open wide. Hermione mentally cursed them. _I can't fight while defending three people!_

"Come here," the leader called. When the two of them stayed exactly where they were, rooted in their spot, he added, "Or the girl dies."

Much to Hermione's dismay, the bulky man retightened his grip on her neck, and she gasped, her pale face taking a purple-ish hue. Cygnus's eyes immediately hardened, and he quickly joined them. Black followed, looking over his shoulder as if to see if he could slip away quickly and get help.

"Don't even think about it," The leader said, and two of his friends formed a human wall to prevent any of them from escaping. "Now, drop your wands at my feet." Cygnus quickly followed orders. Black, who looked like a scared puppy, shook his head fearfully. Hermione would've found his reaction hilarious if the situation wasn't looking so grim. "_NOW!_" The leader yelled at him, and Black quickly threw his wand down and pressed himself against the wall.

"Tie them up,"

Five minutes later, the four of them were tied with ropes and were put against the wall. Hermione moved her hand slightly, and noted with relief that these men were clearly amateurs; she could get out of these bonds quite easily. She worked quickly and silently, making sure to keep her face blank. Violetta, however, seemed to think that they were doomed.

"I'm so sorry!" she whispered. Hermione, who was tied up in between Violetta and Cygnus, felt kind of awkward as the two of them traded loving, farewell glances. _Optimistic much. _She glanced over Cygnus's shoulders and saw Black, trying to act cool. He was obviously scared though, and she saw it in his eyes when he looked at her pleadingly.

_Who would've guessed the biggest scardy cat here would be Black?_

Hermione started to slip her arm out gently like she had been trained to do so many times. She remembered when she was first tied out, she was a mere three years old. Nick stood just three feet away from her, tossing her wand up and down, grinning.

"_You want it, Hermione?" _ _he had asked. "Come get it."_

Needless to say, the incentive for both that situation and the present were about the same. She had pulverized Nick afterwards, and she was going to do the same here. Nick had been left with a bloody nose. She wasn't sure she could hold back.

She freed both of her arms, but to her horror, the ropes immediately fell from her body and onto the ground, drawing all eyes to her. She cursed and stomped on the object. _Damn, can't they even tie ropes properly? _

The leader narrowed his eyes, and then pressed _her_ wand against her forehead. She stared defiantly back. "Well, what do we have here?" His breath smelled of cinnamon bread, and Hermione blinked, rather surprised. She had expected whiskey. "Maybe this one does have some brains after all."

One of the other men stepped forward. He was completely bald with piercings in so many places, Hermione lost count. A cigarette hung from his mouth, and if it wasn't the robes he was wearing, Hermione would've thought he was a muggle. "I want her."

"No!" Black yelled, and Hermione had to admire his courage when he obviously wanted to just crawl in a corner and die. She didn't really need his help, but she appreciated the gesture. "I won't let you take her—"

The leader flicked Hermione's wand carelessly at Black, and he was instantly silenced. He glanced at Hermione with fear etched over his face, and he kept shouting soundlessly at her.

Hermione shot a warning look at Black, who immediately fell silent. She shook her head, and turned towards the bald man, smiling flirtingly at him. "Well, _hi_," she said. She could feel her friends looking at her sharply, but she willed herself not to look at them. "Nice to meet you."

The bald man looked pleased and stepped around his fellow peers. Much to Hermione's disappointment, the leader still had his wand tapped against her forehead, though it was held much more loosely. Hermione suppressed a grin.

"Hi," the man said, and Hermione had to will herself to not wince at the multiple holes in the man's body. She was surprised that he still had any flesh left. "My name is Peter."

They were making acquaintances now? How dreadfully boring. However, she bid herself to smile sweetly at him. "Hi, Peter. I'm Hermione. It's nice to meet you." To further enunciate her point, she daring ran her tongue along her bottom lip. _See, Tom, I'm not a bad actor myself. _Then, she cursed herself for letting the idiot in to her mind in such a dangerous situation.

It worked, and Peter's eyes lusted over. She was pretty sure her friends thought she was slightly out of it now, but if it could get them to safety, she would do it.

Peter pushed the leader aside and loomed over her. The leader yelped and glared, but thankfully retracted her wand. _Good_. The rest of the men crowded around to watch as Peter pushed himself against her. She resisted on making a face, though she could see Black fake gag. Hermione smiled despite herself, and Peter took that as a sign of encouragement. _At least Black still has some humor. _The big bulky man shot Black a glare, though, and he quickly look downwards.

"So, Hermione," his hands started running everywhere. "Is there anything you like to do?"

"Studying," she blurted out without thinking, and Cygnus snorted. The leader looked at him, and Cygnus met his gaze defiantly.

Peter stopped and stared, and Hermione wondered if she had angered him, but then an ugly smile crossed his face. "Sexy bookworm huh?" He played with a strand of her hair, and then leaned in. "What else do you like to do?"

"This," she said, and brought her knee up and socked him right in the balls. He gasped and stumbled backwards, and she sent her fist right into his face. He flew backwards, but still had conscience as Hermione watched him finger his bleeding forehead. _Damn, I need to practice more. _

"Why, you!" the leader said furiously, pointing his wand at…air. He looked around. "Where did she go?"

"Damn bitch," Peter growled, standing up. "She's going to pay for th-"

He slumped over, revealing a grinning Hermione. She had dug out three daggers from her pocket, but forgot her gun. It was locked in her luggage. _Nick would have my head if he knew._ She winked at them. "Catch me if you can."

Four Cruciatus curses flew at her head. She dodged them and inched closer to them. The leader had gone for Violetta, and Hermione narrowed her eyes. She wasn't going to let them be cowardly again. She thrust her daggers. Two of them hit the men's wands straight on, and they flew out of sight. The last dagger barely missed the leader's head, and he turned, eyes wide, and stared at her.

"SHE HAS NO WEAPONS!" He roared at the last remaining man who had his wand. "KILL HER."

Hermione dodged the jet green light and flew behind a box, which was soon smashed. "Come out and play, little kitty." The man drawled, stepping closer to her. "It's too late to play hide and seek."

Hermione's lips curled up into a smirk. "As you wish." The man blinked as a sudden rush of wind hit his face, and then she was gone. It was a cool, dramatic move that she had learned, and for once, she appreciated her father for teaching it to her.

"Keep your guard up," the leader said, looking around. "She couldn't have gotten far." He turned towards the other men. "Stop standing like blubbering idiots and go get your wand."

The two men nodded and headed towards the rubble where their wands lay. The leader turned back and smiled crookedly at the remaining three prisoners. "Now…where were we?"

"Hermione will come and beat your arse," Cygnus said defiantly, staring him down.

"If you haven't forgotten, your little girlie is just a girl," the leader drawled softly. "How do you expect her to beat four fully grown armed men?"

"Make that two."

The leader whirled around. Hermione stood, the sunlight reflecting off her hair as she grinned like a maniac. She tossed the two wands in the air playfully, and looked down at the two men who had lost conscience at her feet.

"You have some nerve," the leader said, swirling around to face her. He and the other man raised their wands. "But even you can't beat two wizards at once."

Hermione snorted. "I beat _Tom Riddle_. I think I'm perfectly capable of defeating you."

And then no more words were traded, and spells flew back and forth. The three of her friends watched, fascinated, but the battle only lasted a couple minutes. Hermione loomed over the leader, her wand pressed to his head. The other man was knocked out a couple feet away from them.

"Please…please spare me!" The leader begged. "I will do anything!"

"I'm not like you," Hermione said. _Though I am. I hurt people. _"I won't hurt you."

A look of relief crossed the man's face. "You won't?" He asked hopefully.

Hermione shook her head. "No, but I don't guarantee what the school does to you." His face fell. "Dippet might be lenient with you, but I'll make sure that all the other professors will be at the meeting as well, just so you'll…" she smiled sweetly at him. "Get what you deserve."

The man sighed in defeat and slumped down as Hermione knocked him out. She heard clapping behind her, and she bowed. Black had apparently gotten over his little scared episode, and was now chanting, 'Encore, encore!'

"Wow, Hermione, I didn't think you were so vicious. If I didn't know better, I would think that I'm rubbing off on you."

Hermione glared as the boy stepped out from the shadows. "Tom," she greeted him frostily, and he returned her sentiment with a smirk. "I take it you were here the whole time?"

"Of course," Tom said smoothly. "Nothing like getting front row seats. It was fairly entertaining…though…" An evil grin twisted on his face. "You should've hurt them more."

"Yeah, well, since you're so smart, maybe you should help next time." Hermione mumbled, wrenching her wand out of the grasp of the leader and placing it in her pocket. She head towards the wall to untie her three friends. Tom followed, deliberately stepping on the leader's fingers, which caused him to wince and Tom to laugh evilly.

He really was scary at times.

"Thank you," Violetta hugged her once she was free. Her eyes were brimming with tears, though from happiness or sadness, Hermione couldn't tell. "I thought we were done for."

"It's okay," Hermione assured her. "I'm sorry about your plants, though." She looked towards the dead, wilted flowers. "I'm afraid you'll have to buy new ones."

Violetta shook her head. "No, it's okay. They were just the ones my mother gave me…" she trailed off and bit her lip. "It's okay. I'll plant new ones. I'm just glad we're safe."

Cygnus, who had been freed by Tom, took her hands gently in his. "Everything's alright," he said, staring intently into her eyes. "I'll plant new ones with you."

Hermione felt someone grab her arm and eased her away from where the two of them were having their own private moment. They were like characters out of a movie. Tom dragged her in to a corner and touched her forehead gently. She was surprised to see no smirk on his face. "You're bleeding."

Hermione raised her hand, and red liquid flowed on to it. "Strange," she frowned. "I didn't even feel it."

_I can't believe I let myself get hit!_ Hermione thought angrily. _I'm turning sloppy!_

"You should go see Pomfrey," Tom said. "I'm no expert in healing. I can make the cut go away," To prove his point, he waved his wand around, and the flowing of liquid stopped. "I can't check for infection, though."

Hermione waved him off. "I'm fine." He frowned at her, and she quickly changed the topic. "So how did your investigating go? Did you catch the culprit?"

Secretly, Hermione hoped he did so it would give her a nice lead, but he shook his head. "No. I do know that it's a girl, though. Maybe she's one of my many admirers?" A haughty smirk crossed his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How do you know?"

Tom shrugged. "She went into the girl's bathroom. I'm guessing that if it were a boy, they'd go into the boy's bathroom." He smirked at her. "Just a guess."

Hermione scowled at him. "Fine. What did you do then? Did you wait outside? Please tell me you did not just walk away."

He had an amused expression on his face. "I did better. I went in."

Hermione gaped at him. "_You_ went in?" Tom nodded. "But you're a _Prefect!_"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"You can't just barge in to the girl's bathroom!" Hermione protested.

"I was under the impression that that had nothing to do with whether I'm a prefect or not," Tom replied smoothly.

"You can't go in to the girl's bathroom, Tom," Hermione replied hotly, and Tom sighed. "So I take it you caught her?"

Tom shook his head. "She escaped."

"She escaped?" Hermione repeated. "How? Down the toilet?"

Tom smirked. "Interesting idea, but no. She burned a hole in the wall and climbed out." Tom sighed. "Dippet was livid when he heard. He was shouting about the importance of respecting the school walls when I left."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You openly admitted to Dippet that you were breaking the rules and entering the girl's bathroom?"

Tom shrugged. "He was so proud of my accomplishments that he was willing to overlook that part. After all, I _did_ save everyone's lives."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Black called from the front of the alley, "Hey, lovebirds! Are you coming?"

To Hermione's disappointment, she saw Tracey standing worriedly behind him. She was biting her lower lip and looking around anxiously until her eyes landed on Tom and they lit up. Hermione sighed and turned towards Tom. "Come on," she told him. "Your girlfriend awaits."

Tom smirked and bent down to press his lips against her ear, his cool breath causing her to shiver. "You fought well, Hermione." And then he straightened himself and sauntered towards the squealing Tracey, allowing her to hug him.

_A compliment from Tom. _Hermione thought, shocked. _I was actually complimented by him._

Hermione found herself beaming.

ஐ

"Isn't this amazing?"

Hermione snorted. "It's just a couple of lunatics flying around on brooms, Seamus. Nothing amazing about this."

"Don't let Ron hear you say that," Seamus grinned back. "He's a diehard Quidditch fan."

Nick laughed and smiled at her. "Let me guess," he said, as she watched the Quidditch players take their spots on the field. Massive cheering could be heard around the pitch, as the Slytherin and Gryffindor for the first Quidditch match of the year. She spotted Black, Abraxas and Eleanor wearing their green robes, and Ron's red hair on the other side. "You're thinking of all the work you could be doing now."

"Of course," Hermione grumbled. "See, Minerva was smart enough not to get caught up in this mess." She looked to the right and saw Lily talking amiably with a pale looking guy. He had a small smile on his face. She had never seen him in any of her classes, but Nick had said his name was Remus Lupin. He looked nice enough, and had even smiled at her when she had climbed across the bleachers to reach Nick.

"I never thought I'd see the day, though," Nick grinned, leaning comfortably against the railings. "Black's going to be your servant for an entire day? You should put that to good use."

"Oh, believe me, I will."

The girls in the row behind her suddenly squealed and clutched on to each other. "Can you believe it?" They asked each other. "It's so unfair! All the hot guys are in Slytherin!" Nick looked amused as Hermione fake gagged. "I wish Tom would play Quidditch, though. Can you imagine how sexy he would look on a broom?"

Hermione had successfully found a Gryffindor version of Tracey. Her friend giggled along with her. "Though, I have to admit, both Abraxas and Orion are pretty hot as well," she swooned, and this time Hermione had to seriously work to prevent her breakfast from climbing up her throat. "Eleanor Bletchey is _so_ lucky."

They caught Hermione looking at them weirdly, and their eyes drifted to her robes, before snarling and whispering to each other. Hermione sighed and firmly turned her back on the two girls as the players mounted their brooms and took off.

After five minutes, Hermione was ready to fall asleep. Black was flying like a lunatic, laughing maniacally as he threw the ball through hoops as easily as brushing his teeth. Abraxas stayed on top to look for the golden snitch. Hermione had no idea why he would want to do that; it sounded awfully boring.

"Bored already?" Nick teased, but didn't remove his eyes from the game. Out of the two of them, he had been the one who always loved to fly. He wasn't good, by any means, but at least he could get on a broom and hover a couple feet from the ground without screaming his head off.

"Yeah," Hermione grumbled, leaning her head on her hand. "I don't know why anyone would enjoy this stuff-"

She was cut off when the girls behind her started to squeal. "Oh my god, oh my god! He's coming over here!" It seemed, however, that they weren't the only ones pointing. The whole Gryffindor girl population seemed to be swooning as Black flew over crazily.

"Yo, Squirtle," he grinned at her, and Hermione could feel glares pressed in to her back. She sighed. _Just what I need: the Gryffindor population after me as well. _"You came."

"Yeah," she said. "The offer was quite good." She smirked at him. "I'm going to make you run around naked, Black."

He matched her smirk. "Who knew you were so naughty, Squirtle? Nice to know you want to see my fantastic body. Though, if I were you, I would keep it private. It's too amazing to be publicized, after all."

Hermione just swatted at him. "Go away. Don't you have a game to win?"

Black grinned cheekily at her. "Yes, but I noticed you are sitting on the wrong side." He winked at her. "Need a ride over there?"

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled at him. "No thank you."

"Orion, I want a ride!" The girl behind her shrieked, her 'love' for him practically oozing out of her. Black sent her a flirty smile, but shook his head.

"Sorry, babe, but you're where you belong." The girl looked so shocked that Hermione almost felt bad for the poor girl. Almost, but not quite. Black turned back towards her. "Come on, Squirtle. Abraxas told me about your little flying trip. Why would you agree to go with him and not me?" He gasped dramatically. "Are you picking favorites?"

"I certainly am not," Hermione harrumphed. "He forced me on his broom…er…" she turned red when some wolf whistles met her ears. Black smirked at her. "The wood broom, for Merlin's sake." She groaned when a mischievous smirk crossed his face. "Go away, Black."

"You're not getting away that easily," Black grinned and called over his shoulder. "Yo, Abraxas!" The blonde, who was hovering above the rest of the players, looked over. Hermione was sure that he amplified his voice, because when he talked, the whole pitch heard it. "Hermione wants to get on your broom!"

Hermione almost choked and stood up hastily. "That's it; you're done." She reached over and pushed Black, and he almost fell off his broom. Some outraged girls behind her yelled that she could've killed him, but she ignored them. "Go away, Black, or I will hex you. You know perfectly well I can."

"Yes I do," he still had the grin on his face. "What about a kiss for luck?"

"Go kiss yourself."

"Ouch, that hurt," Black fake cried. "And here I thought you were on my side."

"ORION BLACK!" One of the beaters yelled. "THERE'S GOING TO BE MORE TIME FOR THAT LATER. GET YOUR ARSE BACK IN HIS GAME."

Black winked at Hermione. "You hear that? There's going to be more of this later," Hermione rolled her eyes as he grinned cheekily. "Wish me luck, Squirtle." He flew back in to the game, his game mode back on. Hermione watched as he zigzagged through the players, and couldn't help but admire his skills.

"Bipolar, that one," Nick comment from next to her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What?"

He grinned. "Ron and I ran in to him a couple of times. Let's just say he wasn't as…pleasant as he was with you. He even tried to curse me sometimes. No warning either. Just wand out, and bam." A self satisfied smirk appeared on his face.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "And what did you do?"

"I cursed him back, of course," Nick chirped happily.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Abraxas suddenly took a steep dive. The Gryffindor seeker followed him, but Hermione knew that Abraxas was going to get there faster. However, the two red head beaters, who Hermione assumed were Ron's brothers, hurled bludgers at him. They almost hit him, and Hermione had a sudden flashback of the bloody Abraxas lying on the field. However, he managed to dodge them, but by the time he got back on track, the snitch had disappeared.

The Slytherin side sighed and booed, though Hermione wasn't sure if it was directed towards Abraxas or the Weasley twins. The latter just grinned at each other and fist bumped. Black seemed to whisper something to Abraxas, and whatever it was, it worked. He was still frowning, but he didn't look as depressed as he did before.

Abraxas looked around and caught her eye. He grinned and waved. Ignoring the squeals of the girls behind her, she smiled and nudged her head towards the game. _Focus_, she mouthed at him.

Abraxas rolled his eyes and then pointed to her. She looked at him quizzically. He then pointed to himself, and then to his broom. He had the nerve to grin at her. She scowled and crossed her arms. _I'm never going flying with you ever again_, she glared at him.

He mock waved at her, and then returned to his position. Nick nudged her playfully in the side. "That one's bipolar too, though he's less aggressive."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, when the girl behind her suddenly jabbed her with a finger. Hermione turned around and found both girls glaring at her. She arched her eyebrow at them. "May I help you?"

One of the girls had blonde hair and a purple streak through it. Her eyebrows were so long, they were at least five inches. She examined her fingernails, before looking at Hermione irritably. "You're such a slut."

Hermione blinked, and both Nick and Seamus turned around angrily. "Take that back," Seamus growled. Nick tilted his head and sized up the girl, before casting her a look. Unlike Seamus, he knew that she wasn't affected by schoolgirl insults. She had faced a lot worse, and things like this didn't affect her anymore. It was just talk, anyway.

"You heard her," the girl next to her said. She was an Asian girl with a nasty snarl on her face. "Stop flirting with them. Go find someone who's in your league."

"Everyone is in her league," Hermione wanted to groan. Tom Riddle stood on the Gryffindor side of the bleachers like there wasn't anything wrong. Around her, whispers met her ears. "Except me, of course. _My_ league is far better."

"Tom," Hermione greeted frostily as the girls who had been insulting her just moments earlier stared at Tom speechless, their mouths open win. Tom paid them no attention and stood next to Hermione, wearing his trademark smirk. "What are you doing here?"

"Watching the Quidditch game," was his response.

"Go back to the Slytherin side," Hermione growled at him. Most of the teachers were pointing or looking over at the Gryffindor bleachers. Just what she needed: more attention.

Tom pointed out. "_You're_ over here, and you don't see me complaining. You don't want me here, Hermione?" Tom said, rather amused. "How insulting."

"Don't listen to her!" The girl with the blonde hair shrieked, and her friend bobbled her head up and down in agreement. "_We_ want you here, Tom."

Tom turned around and shot them a smile that was so brilliant, so sweet and so…_fake_ that Hermione wanted to gag. However, no one else seemed to notice and they all swooned, their eyes glazing with passion and 'love' for this perfect prefect.

"You go so hard to maintain your reputation," Hermione murmured when he turned back around. The score was 60-40, Slytherin, but it was still a close game. She had learned all the rules the night before, when Black had insisted on paying her back for saving his life by…reciting everything there was to know about Quidditch to her. He still had a death wish, flying around like all he wanted to do was slam in to a wall. A couple of times, he nearly did, before pulling away in a dramatic manner. _Attention hog._ Eleanor was better than she expected, and if compared to Ron, there was no contest who was the better keeper. Ron, however, was quite good as well, though she wasn't a professional, so she couldn't say. He looked like he was doing all of the right things, anyway.

"You know me so well," Tom smirked, and then turned towards Nick. "I don't believe we've been formerly introduced," he said smoothly. "I'm Tom Riddle."

Nick eyed him suspiciously, glancing at Hermione in confusion. "Yes. Yes we have."

Hermione nudged him in the ribs. "He was under the Imperius," she told him quietly.

His eyes widened. "Is it…?"

Hermione nodded.

"I feel like I'm out of the loop," Tom said, looking at them both. "I feel so neglected."

"No one asked you to stay here," Hermione said, wincing as one of the Gryffindor players whacked Abraxas in the arm as he flew past. He grimaced, but he looked otherwise fine. A foul was called. This was why she hated sports. It was so violent.

"And miss your presence?" Tom said mockingly, before his face turned serious back again. "Did you go to the hospital wing yesterday?"

Nick shot her a sharp look; she had forgotten to tell him. Hermione scowled at Tom. "I didn't need to go to the hospital wing. I wasn't that hurt. You healed me perfectly fine."

Tom snorted. "I told you to check the reason you had to go."

"Well, obviously I'd be dead by now if I had an infection. Lay off, Tom. It wasn't even that deep."

"Which is exactly why you were bleeding to death all over my robes. I think you owe me a trip to the hospital wing. After all, you _did_ make me have to wash my robes yesterday. It was my perfectly new ones as well. I think I'll have to charge extra."

"Stop exaggerating things. I barely bled, and it was clearly not on your robes."

Nick cleared his throat loudly, and both of them stopped their argument to look at him. "Hermione," he said, a frown on his face. "Aren't you forgetting to tell me something?"

"It was nothing," Hermione murmured, lowering her eyes so she wouldn't see his hurt face. "It was just Diagon Alley one more time, except this time there were wizards. No biggie. I promise."

Nick look relieved, but it was Tom's time to frown. "You told him about Diagon Alley?" he demanded.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I tell Nick everything," she told him, and a scowl formed on his face. "What's about Diagon Alley that you can't say?"

Tom didn't say anything. Nick sighed and said, "Well, I'm Nick Porter. I'm Hermione's _best_ friend, and also the one she _confides_ in." The two of them scowled at each other. Hermione blinked. What was with them? "Nice to meet you,"

"Quite the opposite, actually," Tom murmured under his breath. Hermione glared at him and stepped on his toe, and he sent her a pleasant smile. _Nick wasn't kidding when he said all Slytherins are bipolar. _

"Tom," someone crooned. It was the Asian girl from earlier, and she was batting her eyebrow flirtingly. Her friend was nowhere to be seen. She gestured towards the empty seat next to her. "It must be so annoying to have unpleasant company," she shot Hermione a nasty glare. "There's an empty seat over here."

Tom shot Hermione an amused look before turning back to the girl. "No, but thank you," his smile almost looked genuine. Almost. The girl swooned. "I prefer standing."

"You know what?" the girl giggled. Tom inclined his head politely at her. "I prefer standing as well." She got up and took her spot on the other side of Tom, but Hermione noticed that she was standing quite close to him. She started talking fast, and he leaned closer to listen, but Hermione didn't miss the quick look of boredom that flashed across his face.

Nick sighed. "Seamus is pathetic," he said irritably, pointing to the brown haired boy next to him. He was staring with his mouth wide open. "It seems like he's a Riddle fan as well."

"Your fans never end, do they?" She scowled at Tom.

"Nope," Tom said smarmily. "And neither, apparently, does yours,"

He gestured around, and Hermione turned around. All around the pitch, girls and boys alike were glaring at her, as if it were a sin to be close to this perfect role model. Tom tilted his head and smiled up at them, and Hermione could've sworn she heard a couple cries of 'marry me!'

This school was really starting to look quite pathetic. Tom might as well be the Headmaster. He certainly had enough power.

"TOM!" Someone roared. Hermione spun around to find Black, chasing after a bludger that was headed their way. Hermione knew that it would be too late. The bludger would be upon them in a matter of milliseconds.

There was a sickening crack, and gasps could be heard around the pitch. Tom spun around, his eyes wide. She saw fear in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly, Hermione was sure she imagined it. Nick was trying to help her while she sank down to her knees, her head dizzy. _Damn reflexes; they're going to get me killed one day_. There was shouting, and some whistle blowing. However, before she could hear anything else, she lost conscience.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Dun dun dun dunnnn. Oh no. Hermione dies, and the rest of the story is told from Eileen's view, when she imposes as Hermione and she and Tom fall in love and live happily ever after…Just kidding. ;)


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **Super power update. Don't expect the next one for a while, but hopefully you'll have fun reading this. Some action in this chapter…;) I'll shut up before I ruin this for you.

Thanks for reviewing! You guys are the best. (Just 10 away from 100! *squeals like a little girl*)

loves2readalways, Country-girl13, Daughter of Oceanus, Vanilla Sensation, Zombie Reine, Lost O'Fallon Girl, voldyismyfather, Nero Basterdino, CathyCullen16, TheEscapeFromReality, morpheusandmuse, Angellwriter, Alassea Riddle, DEATHxMelody, xXDragonSlayerXx, Trelaney, Weird-Chik2

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><p>Hermione heard two voices.<p>

They were quite different, yet similar at the same time. They both sounded masculine. Both were rather familiar. They were loud and obnoxious. And the biggest thing that they both shared in common was that they were both annoying the crap out of her. They were so _annoying_ and _shrill_ and _loud_. It made her want to cry.

"I want you to stay away from her," The voice had a hard, cutting edge to it. She felt a familiar hand stroke her hair gently, though she couldn't remember who it was. It felt nice, anyway, and she would've leaned in to the touch if she found a way to make her stupid body move again. "Every time she's near you, she gets hurt."

The other person snorted, but his voice was far from amused. "_I'm _a bad influence?" His voice sounded dangerous, yet melodic at the same time. It was pleasant to listen to. "Let me assure you, before she came to this school, I have never been attacked. Now, in the same week, I have almost been attacked twice."

"Get off your high horse. How do you think Hermione feels? She's actually been attacked." The voices were growing increasingly colder. "If you hate it so much, wouldn't it be logical if you stayed away from Hermione?"

"I don't hate it," the voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "And what I do with Hermione is none of your business."

"It _is_," the other voice said hotly. "Hermione wants nothing to do with you, and if you go near her once again-"

"Will the both of you _shut up_?" Hermione's eyes popped open, and she glared at them both. Nick, who was stroking her hair, removed his hand and scowled, though Hermione didn't know if it was directed towards her or Tom. The latter was sitting in his chair with proper posture, and, Hermione dared to hope, had a little concern in his eyes. "You're annoying me."

Nick looked at her with sympathy. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," Hermione slurred, sitting up and wishing she hadn't. She winced as a sharp pain shot through her head, and she winced, lying back down. "Why is there a cast around my leg?"

"You broke your leg," Tom said simply. "Or rather, the bludger broke it for you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall being hit in the leg," she said. "Didn't it hit me somewhere near my head?"

Nick nodded. "You're lucky it barely skimmed your head, but you fainted anyway." Tom snorted, and Hermione glared at him. "However, it came back and struck you in the leg." Nick frowned. "It seems like someone wanted to hurt you."

"No, is it that obviously?" Tom rolled his eyes. Nick glared back at him.

"Can the two of you please be civil, or leave?" Hermione huffed, hiding under her blanket. "You can fight all you want outside, but not in here. My head hurts."

"How nice," Tom drawled. "Nice of you to consider our wellbeing."

Nick ignored him. "Of course. You were just hit in the head, after all." He jumped up and headed towards Pomfrey. "I'll go get some painkillers for you. Don't move."

"As if I'm going anywhere." Hermione snorted, though the movement hurt her. She stopped moving her head, and instead tracked his movements with her eyes. Nick waved at her, and disappeared in to Pomfrey's office, shutting the door behind him. And then she was left with Tom Riddle.

He was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She blinked up at him. "Thanks for staying. You didn't need to."

"Nonsense," Tom said. "It's my fault you're here." His face morphed in to a scowl. "When I get hold of whoever is doing this, I will _murder_ them in the most brutal way possible."

Somehow, Hermione didn't doubt that. He certainly was capable. She frowned. "You haven't found out who did it yet?"

Tom shook his head, his face still murderous. "No." He said shortly. "I went to talk to Dippet, and _Dumbledore_ was there," he spat out the name. "We investigated, or rather, I went to look and the old codger made fun of me the whole time, but I left halfway, so I don't know."

"Why did you leave halfway?" Hermione inquired curiously. It wasn't like him to drop things halfway, especially not something as important and big as this. His pride had been wounded, after all. He needed someone else to save him, something she had no doubt was foreign to him.

"Your prince charming came straight to see you," Nick said, smirking. He had come back from Pomfrey's office with a couple of bottles and a glass of water. Tom scowled at him, but Nick ignored him and said, "He couldn't bear to think that his precious princess might be hurt."

Hermione growled and kicked at him. Nick barely dodged. "_Nick_."

Nick smirked and her and handed her a cup of water. She took it gratefully, feeling the cold liquid flow down her dehydrated throat. She swallowed some of the pills and grimaced as they scratched their way down. _It's all worth it_, she told herself. _It's only a matter of time til your head stops pounding like someone was hammering inside of it._ "It's true. Why don't you ask him?"

The look on Tom's face clearly said that there would be terrible consequences if she did ask him.

"Nick?" Hermione spotted a head of red pop in to the infirmary. _Ron_. He smiled at her when he saw she was awake. "Hey, Hermione," he greeted. "How's your head?" He frowned slightly at Tom, who was still sitting next to her, but unlike when he saw Black and Abraxas, he didn't lash out. It seemed like Tom was the exception no matter what.

"Still bad," she admitted, raising her hand to touch her forehead. Thick, white bandages greeted her fingertips. Whoever wrapped it did a pretty good job at it. She was never good with bandages. She would accidently screw up and tangle it all together before it even touched her head. "Could be worse, though."

Ron nodded, and then turned towards Nick. "Hey, McGonagall wants to see you for a second."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Ron shrugged. "Beats me. I know better than to question her when she has her spectacles on."

"She always has her spectacles on," Hermione pointed out.

Ron grinned. "Exactly."

Nick cast Hermione a worried look, but she shooed him away. "Nick, your grade is already bad enough. You can't go and ignore the teachers." He still looked skeptical, but he followed Ron out, though not before sending a glare at Tom, which was happily returned. He didn't need to worry, though; even though her body still ached, she was more than capable of raising her wand and cursing Tom if he tried anything suspicious. She wasn't _that _crippled. She still had two hands and a leg, didn't she?

"I brought your homework," Tom said, breaking the silence. He reached in to his bag and brought out a big stack of paper. Hermione eyed it curiously. "Knowing you, you'd want to go ahead, so I got the entire month's homework." He shrugged. "Pomfrey said you'd only be in here for another day, but you do as much as you can."

Hermione gaped at him. "H-how? When I ask, most of them don't give it to me." She eyed them suspiciously. Maybe they were a fraud? She hated frauds; they would get her hopes up, only to crush them later.

Tom winked at her. "I'm a prefect."

She didn't care how he got it. Her attention was focused only on the wonderful miracle in front of her. Hermione flipped through the papers eagerly. The scent of fresh parchment greeted her nose, and she stuffed them to her face. Tom looked at her weirdly, before chuckling. Hermione was surprised to hear no malice in it. It almost made Tom seem like…a normal human being.

_Yeah right, like that could ever happen._

"You're weird," he said, and then propped his elbows on the mattress to hold his head up. Strangely, it sounded like a compliment. The two of them sat in the infirmary; she watched the paper, and he watched her. The only thing that broke the silence was the ticking of the clock above Pomfrey's office.

"Hey, Tom?" Hermione put down her papers on the book stand next to her. He regarded her curiously. "Who's Amy?"

Tom smirked, but Hermione could see he had shut down. "Are you sure you aren't jealous, Hermione? You ask about her a lot." She rolled her eyes. "Is this the time where we paint each other's nails and braid each other's hair and share are deepest and darkest secrets?"

Hermione shrugged. "Something like that, yes."

Tom didn't look away, like she would've thought he would. Instead, he stared straight at her and spoke each word slowly and clearly. "She's one of the girls at my orphanage," he said. "She was one of the only people who didn't give me what I wanted. So I took a particular liking in her."

Hermione thought of herself. She could easily place herself in Amy's place, and the story still would've worked. She nodded for him to continue, still mildly surprised that he was telling her.

"I was five at the time I met her. Too young to feel the feelings you call love," _That's not true_, Hermione wanted to scream at him. _I loved Nick since I met him. _However, the look on Tom's face clearly said that he had not, and still had not, loved anyone before. It must've been terrible to be all alone, though he did a great job at hiding that. "She had a teddy bear I wanted, but she would not give it to me."

Hermione blinked. "Tom Riddle wants a teddy bear?"

"Shut up," he scowled at her when she giggled. "I eventually outgrew my desire for the teddy bear…what's so funny?" He glared as she almost re-hurt herself laughing. She waved for him to go on, but tears were forming on the edges of her eyes. She almost fell off the bed, and Tom stared at her, trying to figure out what had come over her. _Who would've guessed tough, macho Tom Riddle had a teddy bear obsession?_

Tom regarded her suspiciously, but continued nonetheless. "She was just one of my conquests. I suppose she was just special in the regard that she lasted longer than my others. Maybe it was because she was a stupid mudblood. She didn't know when to give in." His eyes glowered, and Hermione was caught in between trying to soothe him or trying not to laugh. She did neither, and just sat still. "Or maybe it was because of Dennis."

His eyes were quite murderous, and Hermione knew she should keep her mouth shut if she wanted to cool him down. However, her curiosity won out. "Who's Dennis?"

"The stupid mudblood who would always be there," he gritted his teeth, and his knuckles were clenched tightly. Hermione had never seen him like this. "Whenever I was _so_ close to breaking her, he would be there and bring her back. It was so damn annoying. All my efforts, wasted." His eyes, now slightly red, locked in to hers and bore in to her head. "But, it's no matter now. They're gone now."

Hermione didn't want to know, but she asked anyway. "What did you do to them?"

A sadistic smirk formed on his face. "Let's just say…I've taken care of them."

He was so out of it right now, Hermione couldn't help but shrink back. She had expected this forbidden love story, but not this. Maybe he didn't know it himself, but it seemed like Tom had loved Amy, despite claiming her to be just a conquest. Maybe he had hurt both Amy and Dennis because of jealousy. He didn't look like one who would cope well with jealousy, but then again, his methods were always extreme.

What _had_ she expected? Of course, this sounded like the Tom she knew. Still, she watched as his eyes flashed around angrily. She had never seen the real Tom Riddle before, because he hadn't shown her. And now he was. She was caught between feeling grateful that he trusted her enough, to being scared and wished she never asked about this story.

She noted, in surprise, that Tom had started trembling. She couldn't tell if it was of anger, sadness, or a mixture of both. It made him look oddly small. She carefully placed her hand on top of his clenched fists. He swung his eerily red eyes to face her. Hermione shuddered, but managed to smile slightly at him.

"Hey, Tom, it's okay," she reassured him. He stared at her, unmoving. "It's a memory. You're better than her, anyway."

Hermione felt bad that she was insulting someone she had never met, but it seemed to reassure Tom, anyway. His eyes grew less red, but his face was still angry. "Yes, I am," he hissed. "No mudblood is worth my time."

She was afraid he would start hurling everything he saw and get himself expelled. She didn't want him to get expelled. She wondered when it had become not about Tim and his promise, and rather their own relationship. "Tom," she said gently, risking her fingers and several other body parts when she put her hand on his cheek. On contrast to the murderous look on his face, his face was quite warm. "Look at me. _Look. At. Me._" He was determinedly ignoring her eyes—most possibly deciding what to throw across the room—but he met her eyes. "It's just a memory."

"Just a memory," he repeated softly, though grey tinges now mixed in with red. "Just a memory."

"Yes," Hermione said gently. Since when was it _her_ job to calm _Tom Riddle_ down? Normalcy just took a nosedive off of the Astronomy Tower. "She's a memory. You're in a better place now. You're in Hogwarts." She couldn't think of anywhere else anyone would rather be.

"Dumbledore makes me go back there every break," he shuddered. "They don't respect me there."

"We'll work something out," She patted his hand gently, and was relieved to see his eyes return to his normal color. "You don't need to worry about it. See?" She smiled at him. "You're all better now, aren't you?"

"Hermione," he breathed out, and Hermione stared at him. That was the most un-Tom-like thing he could've done.

Before she could do anything, he crashed his lips to hers. She flailed slightly, surprised, and considered pushing him off. He was Tom, after all, and no matter how their relationship had improved, he was still the same person. However, his warm lips eventually won over her conscience, and she gave in and wrapped her arms around his head.

It was a quick and chaste kiss, and the only complaint she had was it had ended too soon. Tom buried his head in her blankets without looking at her. It looked like he was ashamed of it. She felt the sudden loss of his heat, and looked as his hunched over figure. Would things change now? She had read in some books that once two people kissed, the boy would be given the choice of staying with the girl or completely walking out of her life. Hermione shuddered. He was not someone who she wanted to walk out of her life. If they ended up meeting on the battle field on opposite sides, it wouldn't be pretty. Not only that, but she genuinely liked his company. She frowned. _Should I poke him? If I tickle him, maybe he'll look at me._

"Yoooo, Squirtle!"

Hermione groaned as Black and Abraxas popped in to the infirmary, the latter holding two banquets of flowers. Abraxas smiled kindly at her, and set the two banquets on the stand next to her, next to her homework. He took one look at the stack of papers and rolled his eyes at her, and she felt herself grinning. Black, however, was staring at Tom.

"Why is Tom here?" He asked suspiciously, sitting down on the opposite side of her bed. She could tell a dirty thought was forming in his mind. "Why is he hunched over? He's not dead, is he?" He looked at Hermione. "You didn't kill him, did you, Squirtle?" He suddenly looked gleeful. "Or maybe he just passed out from exhaustion? You sure know how to work him," he winked at her.

"Er, no. Nothing of that sort." _A kiss didn't count, did it? _Hermione looked at Tom. It indeed looked like he was dead; he was completely still. She reached to poke his head, but he jerked his head out of the way. Trying to mask her hurt, she turned back to her friends, but by the looks on their faces, they had seen what Tom had done and were curious.

Thankfully, Black knew better than to push it. "Flowers for the crippled," he said, gesturing towards the banquets. "One's from Violetta and my idiotic brother, and the other one is from Abraxas and me." He paused. "We would've bought four, but we figured there were better things we could be using our money on."

Hermione looked at him pointedly. "Thanks."

"No problem," Black replied. "So how are you, Squirtle? Feeling better? That was a hard hit in the head."

He was grinning like an idiot, and Hermione decided he was much too smug for his own good. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah, well maybe if you had been a better Quidditch player, you could've stopped the bludger before it ever came near me."

Hermione was just joking, and she expected him to lash out at her angrily, or for him to yell at her, _I'm not a beater_. But instead, he cast his eyes down and said nothing, and Hermione immediately felt bad. She reached for his hand, but he pulled away, stood up and exited the infirmary.

She groaned. "Two people in five minutes. I must be talented."

"Don't worry about it too much," Abraxas said gently. "He's just beating himself up over it. He _does_ think it's his fault." He shrugged. "I don't know how he could've stopped it even if he were right in front of it. You can't just catch a bludger in midair. I think he believes he should've warned you, though I don't think that would do a lot of good. That bludger seemed to want to hit you pretty badly."

"It did," Hermione frowned. "But it wasn't even aimed for me. I think it changed plan midway and decided to go for me. That, or the person who cursed it has terrible aim."

Abraxas looked sharply at Tom. "What did you do to him? Did you gloat that he now owed you or something?"

Hermione shook her head. "No."

"What did you do, then?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I really don't know."

ஐ

Hermione was released from the hospital wing a day later, after she made the promise to Pomfrey to check in once a week. Her headaches had gone away, and she shuffled to balance herself on crutches while holding her bag. She had twenty minutes until she had to go to DADA, but at the pace she was going at, she figured that it would probably take her more to get there.

She had just turned around the corner when she saw four people standing in the middle of the hallway. All of them were Slytherin. She spotted Abraxas's blonde locks, and started heading towards them when the figure turned around. Hermione almost groaned when she saw how sorely mistaken she was.

Gabriel's eyes widened at the sight of her, and he hissed menacingly. "You see her, right?" he asked, turning to the black haired girl next to him. Walburga. The other two were Lestrange and Avery, the latter looking at her with a sneer on his face. "I'm not imagining things?"

It had been awhile since she had come across Gabriel. Of course, she knew that he attended the school, but never had they once crossed paths. She hadn't seen him at meals, and neither, apparently, did he. Hermione frowned. How could she have let this little detail escape her? She needed to carefully observe every environment.

"No," Walburga said shortly. "The filthy mudblood had the nerve to come here."

Lestrange looked at her, and then turned back to his companions. "She's a mudblood?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Tom's been going around claiming that she's a halfblood."

"She has Tom lying for her," Walburga huffed. "She's blackmailing him."

Hermione didn't think Tom could be blackmailed. Being blackmailed would put him below someone, and Hermione didn't think it was acceptable for him to be below anyone. Plus, for his so called followers, they sure had a lot of faith in him, taking Walburga's word over his.

"I can't believe it," Gabriel was still shaking his head. "Does Abraxas know?"

"Of course he does," Walburga cackled gleefully. "She spends all her time with Abraxas, Orion and Tom. Tracey says she's sleeping with them all." _Of course Tracey just has to start some gossip against me. _She looked at her in disgust. "One boy isn't good enough for you?"

"I am certainly not sleeping with any of them." Hermione rolled her eyes, and tried to limp past, but the four of them formed a human barricade in front of her. Hermione gritted her teeth, but they didn't seem like moving anytime soon. There was another way to get to DADA, but it would involve her climbing up a couple of flights of stairs. And, looking at her condition, that wasn't too preferable.

"You stay away from Tom," Avery snarled. "Tom's too good for filthy mudbloods like you. Where does a slave get off coming to Hogwarts and impersonating as a halfblood? You're disgusting." He looked at Walburga. "Walburga told me that you were a slave at the Malfoy Manor, weren't you? You should back to where you belong, and hope that the Malfoy's are lenient with your disobedience."

Hermione blinked, unaffected. She had heard these all before. It would take a lot more than a few insults to bring her down. "I think Tom can look out for himself." She said coolly. "Though I'm sure he'll be delighted to know he has some lapdogs who think they need to defend his honors.

Lestrange narrowed his eyes. "Look around. The corridor is empty." It was. She didn't see his point. "I would be careful if I were you. You're outnumbered, and you can't even walk properly. I would shut your mouth if I were you, filthy mudblood. You could end up disappearing."

_They are quite creative, aren't they? _Hermione snorted. _And even Tom has never called me mudblood before. They're not the brightest, are they? _

"Let's shake her up a bit," Avery smirked, drawing his wand. He took a step closer to her, and she held her ground, and stared back defiantly. She swatted his wand away when he pointed it at her. He grinned. "Oooh, we have a feisty one here."

Hermione drew her own wand with a little difficulty, and Walburga cackled at the gesture. "You think you can fight us?" She screeched. "You think a mudblood can fight four pureblood wizards? You don't even deserve to point a wand at us."

Hermione immediately felt bad for the muggleborns. Were they really treated this way? She had never known. In her father's world, it didn't matter what the blood status of his victims were. Prey was prey, and if someone got in his way, he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate them, wealthy or not.

She wondered how long the four of them would stand if she delivered them to her father. Probably not that long; they would probably bore him quickly with their annoying mouths.

"She didn't seem to get the memo," Lestrange said. "Let's teach her a lesson."

Hermione was bewildered. Why were they randomly cornering her and attacking her? What did she ever do to them? Even if she were a muggleborn…this was unacceptable. And it was even in Hogwarts, A History that dueling in the hallways was forbidden.

She told them this, and they looked at her like she had gone bonkers. Then they started to laugh, and she could only stand there helplessly, wondering if she had suddenly spouted two heads.

"Who actually reads that shit?" Avery laughed, and Hermione glared at him. Hogwarts, A History was one of the most brilliant books ever published. He had no right to insult it. "No one reads that crap, mudblood."

"Don't insult it," Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "That book is ten times your worth."

"How dare you!" Walburga screeched. "Not only do you have the nerve to open your mouth, you even insult him! A mudblood like you, insulting a pureblood!" Even if she wasn't muggleborn, she had had her fair share of insulting purebloods. "You should be kissing his feet right now, hoping that he'll forgive you for your insult!"

"I'm sorry, Lord Avery," Hermione said mockingly. "I know the truth is sometimes hard to take."

Avery fumed angrily and pulled out his wand. "Aguamenti!" He roared.

Hermione blinked as a jet of water drenched her. However, no other side effects arose, and she stood there, dripping water, as Avery looked down at his wand and cursed.

"Nice job, Avery," Gabriel clapped him on the back. "Very dangerous spell you got there."

Avery growled, and tried another spell. A stunner. She stepsided easily and raised her eyebrows at him, something that infuriated him even more. He was more pathetic than their dueling lesson, she realized. No wonder he was held back a year.

"Why you filthy mudblood!" That insult was getting slightly old, but before she could tell him so, he lunged for her. She was so surprised that he had stopped using his wand, she momentarily stood there. It was only for a millisecond, but it was long enough. He flicked away her crutches, leaving her hopping painfully on one foot.

"Heh," Avery said, quite pleased with his accomplishments. He leveled his wand at her, but Hermione was more scared about what he could do with his physical strength. "Not so brave anymore, are you?"

"What do you know?" Walburga cackled gleefully as Hermione stared at them in defiance. "The little mudblood still thinks she can beat us while standing on one foot." Hermione wanted to point out that one foot or two feet were the same thing to her, as she didn't think she needed to run around to dodge their spells, but didn't think they'd care. "Stop stealing all the fun, Avery. Leave some for us too."

"We're going to curse you," Avery announced gleefully, ignoring Walburga all together. "We're going to curse you so we'll dismantle you so badly, Tom can't even stand to look at you. He'll look at you in disgust," his lips curled up. "Like he should."

Hermione blinked at him, unfazed by his threat. "What are you, Tom's secret bodyguard?" She asked him. "Why are you so protective of him? It's almost as if you…" she shot him a suspicious glance. "Have feelings for him."

Avery went very pale, and looked around, as if Tom would pop out any second. Huh. That was the same reaction that Abraxas had given her when she mentioned him in the Malfoy Manor. Maybe this had something to do with his secret meeting she had walked upon. Honestly, she would have thought that Tom would be _pleased_ that so many people 'loved' him. Rather, it seems like he made sure that the idea was absolutely horrid.

"Stop speaking out of turn," Avery snarled at her, and she realized she had provoked him too far. Not that it was particularly dangerous, as she didn't think an angry Avery knew how to duel any better than a regular Avery, but Hermione could swear she could see angry steam coming out of his head. Maybe he was a cartoon character.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Hermione mocked as he sent another stunner angrily at her. "Is that the best you can do?"

The four of them surrounded her, each raising their own wands. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That's more like it."

Before any of them had a chance to curse her, however, someone shouted from the end of the corridor. "Four against one? Isn't that a little cowardly?"

It was Eileen, and she stared at the four Slytherins pointedly. "You should drop your wands," she told them frostily. "Or I can go get a teacher and you can explain to them why you're cursing a fellow housemate, if you would like."

"Bugger off, Eileen," Lestrange narrowed his eyes at her. "This isn't your business."

She leveled her own wand and pointed it at him. "Leave, or you can see just how much I know about dueling."

Hermione had never seen Eileen duel before, but she gathered it must be good, seeing how the four of them quickly lowered their wands and scuttled away. However, before they left, Avery bent down and said in a low voice, "You got away this time, mudblood. You won't be as lucky next time."

Somehow, Hermione wasn't afraid of his threat.

"Are you okay?" Eileen asked, helping to pick up her crutches once they were gone. She waved her wand around, and Hermione was instantly dried. She had forgotten she was drenched in the first place. "They didn't hurt you too much, did they?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Avery just hit me with a splash of water. All his other spells were pathetically off target."

Eileen was still looking at her. "You should stop goading them," she said finally.

Hermione blinked. "Why?"

"Have you ever thought that one day, you might be outnumbered? Goading people will make them angrier at you, and the angrier they are, the less lenient they'll be when they capture you."

Hermione was slightly insulted. Did Eileen really think that Avery could catch her? She didn't think he could even if she only had one arm left. "Well, I won't let myself get captured then, won't I?"

Eileen was still looking at her, and Hermione resisted the urge to scowl at her. Nick's warning flashed in her mind. Eileen finally sighed, and said, "Do you have class after DADA?"

Hermione blinked at the sudden subject change. "Yeah, why?"

"You're going to the Halloween dance, aren't you?"

Hermione hadn't really thought about it since Cygnus told her about it. She shrugged.

"You have to go," Eileen urged her. "It's fun. But I need to go shopping for a costume, and so do you. So what do you say we went together?"

Hermione considered this. Nick's warning echoed in her mind. However, she could take on Eileen if she needed to. And it would also give her a chance to spy on her even more. Though if Eileen really was a spy who wanted her dead, she wouldn't have saved her from Avery and the others…though she didn't need saving in the first place.

"Fine," Hermione nodded curtly. "This weekend?"

"Got it," Eileen grinned at her. "See you in class, Hermione."

Hermione watched Eileen head down the corridor in the opposite direction, not even waiting for her, and wondered if she had made the wrong choice. It was better to act uninterested, wasn't it? Leading people on…that was like goading, wasn't it?

ஐ

By the time she got to DADA, the whole class had already arrived. Merrythought looked like she was going to hand her detention for being late, but then she noticed Hermione's bandaged up leg and looked at her with sympathy. Hermione was grateful; detention was one of her worst nightmares. She would feel guilty, and it would be one of the '_don't do in Hogwarts_' lesson she would tell her grandchildren when she was a hundred and one.

_Assuming I have kids. _The idea was so far in to the future that Hermione didn't even bother thinking about it. _My main priority is not getting killed. _

There were three open seats. One was next to Tom, one was next to Black, and the last one was in the very last row of Gryffindors. _Checkmate_. She scooted to the Gryffindor side of the room, receiving many strange glances. Tom didn't even acknowledge her, but Black looked hurt. She blinked; she would sit next to him if he wanted, but he turned his back firmly on her. Hermione sighed. Nick turned around from his seat in the front and shot her a questioning look, before Merrythought cleared her throat loudly.

"We are going to have a practical class today," Merrythought announced. Excited murmurs went through the class, and she clapped her hands together loudly. "Listen up. We are going to be facing a boggart today. Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?"

Merrythought scanned around the room, and said in surprise, "No one?" Everyone looked towards both Hermione and Tom. The two of them were too immersed in their own thoughts to even bother answering. Merrythought frowned at her two best students. "Hermione?"

"A boggart is a shape-shifter that takes on the form of the victim's worst fear." Hermione said simply. They all waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't say anything else. Abraxas was nudging Black and whispering something to him, but the latter only shook his head.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Merrythought said, still shocked that she hadn't received a whole book worth of material on boggarts. "Right then. Everyone stand up, and follow me to the front of the room."

Nick caught up to her while everyone else headed towards the cabinet that Merrythought was standing next to. "Are you okay?" He frowned. "You actually gave a normal answer for once." He shot a look at the Slytherins. "Did you guys get in a fight? They're not quite right either. Ron insulted them, but none of them seemed to care."

"I'm fine," Hermione said. "I'm seriously fine."

Nick looked at skeptically, but before he could say anything, someone poked her on the shoulder. It was Cygnus. "What did you do to my brother?" He demanded. "What did you do to Tom?"

"I didn't do anything," Hermione shook her head. "Abraxas says that Black thinks it's my fault that I was hit. He ran away before I could say anything." Hermione took a deep breath. "And _I_ didn't do anything to Tom."

"Did he hurt you?" Nick asked, narrowing his eyes at the Slytherin who was slowly making his way over. He was determinedly not meeting her eye. Abraxas stood between Tom and Black, talking fast, but it clearly wasn't working. They were both still out of the world.

"I don't know," Hermione said miserably, and then switched her train of thoughts. What would her fear be? Well, that part was obvious enough. It was a normal enough fear, too, so it shouldn't cause people to be suspicious about her. Still, she gnawed on her lip. What if it did something that she didn't expect? Come to think of it, she had _two_ fears. She wondered which one was worse.

"You don't know?" Nick asked. "How can you not know?"

"She means she's not listening to you, Porter," Abraxas put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She had never heard his voice so cold. "Go to the Gryffindor side of the room. We'll take care of her."

_So much for house unity. _Nick narrowed his eyes at him, and Hermione knew a fight would break out, so she quickly intervened. "Nick, it's okay," she reassured him. "I'll tell you about it later. Promise."

Nick looked at her, nodded and then headed off to where Ron was waiting. Hermione watched the two of them talk for awhile, and then turned back around to Abraxas to scold him for using that tone to talk to Nick…

…when she was blasted in the face with a jet of water for the second time in the past thirty minutes. Her robes were completely drenched.

"Gotcha." Black grinned at her.

Hermione blinked at him as everyone stopped to stare. Even Tom, who was standing next to Abraxas, peeked over curiously. _Nick was totally right when he said bipolar. This whole house is bipolar. _

Abraxas nudged her. "That's his way of apologizing."

Hermione turned back towards Black. It seemed like Abraxas was telling the truth. Black's grin was still plastered on his face, but he was watching her carefully. She shook her head at him. "You don't need to apologize," she said. "Well, you do, for drenching me, but anything else is already forgiven."

A huge smile appeared on his face, and before Hermione could do anything, he picked her up and flung her around in a circle. "Black!" She yelled at him, aware that everyone, including Merrythought, was watching. "What are you doing?"

"Well, you're crippled now, aren't you?" Black replied cheekily. "So someone must carry you." Before she could protest, he dumped her in to the arms of one of the people standing next to him.

The said person happened to go by the name of Tom Riddle.

Tom immediately froze, and looked down slowly. He was carrying her princess style, and she hoped he wouldn't decide to drop her. He _was_ pretty tall, after all, and it was a long way from his arms to the floor. However, after a few seconds, she _wished_ he would drop her. It was awkward, and she was sure her face was red. She was blushing in front of a teacher. How embarrassing.

"Er, hi," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Nice view up here, isn't it?"

Tom stared at her, before his lips twitched slightly. "It's your own fault you're so short," he said, setting her gently on the ground. "Now, shush. You're disturbing the lesson." He sent a sickening sweet smile at Merrythought, who blushed and called the attention of the class back towards her, but not before Hermione received several strange glances. She was lucky Tracey wasn't in this class. Eileen, however, was determinedly not meeting her eye.

"Aw, my matchmaking skills didn't work," Black piped cheerfully. Hermione swatted at him, but he laughed and bounced on line. Abraxas rolled his eyes, but followed his friend. Tom looked at her, and the two of them came to a mutual agreement: They would forget about the kiss. Never ever bring it up.

Hermione stood behind Tom, and Cygnus behind her. "I feel like I'm missing out on something obvious," he said, looking between the two of them.

"Nothing to miss," Hermione replied. "We've decided to become friends."

"Really." Cygnus deadpanned.

"Really really."

"Seeing how you blushed like that," Cygnus continued. "I think the two of you kissed."

Hermione sputtered. "Why would you think that?"

"Just a guess," Cygnus said. "But based on reaction, I'd say I'm right." He had a smug look on his face. "Don't look at me like that. If you want to blame someone, blame my brother. He's the one who is a terrible influence."

Hermione decided to blame Tom instead. After all, he was Tom. Even if she didn't have a good reason, he was still a very blamable character.

"Alright, Mister Weasley," Merrythought called. Ron shot a grin at Nick and Seamus, and the latter mock waved at him. "The spell is _Riddikulus, _and remember, concentrate on something humorous. I'm sure Mister Weasley wouldn't mind demonstrating with his spider."

The Gryffindor side exploded in laughter. Hermione turned to Cygnus. "Have you guys done this before?"

"Yeah. We do this every year." Cygnus rolled his eyes. "Merrythought is lazy."

Tom smirked at her, and leaned down. "I can't wait to see what your fear is, Hermione." He said. "Will it be me?"

"You?" Hermione snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not afraid of you."

"Good," his lips curled.

"What about you?" She nudged him. "What's your fear?"

He shrugged and turned around. "You'll see."

Merrythought opened the cabinet door, and a large acromantula crawled out. Ron just laughed at it, and said, "Riddikulus!" It seemed to defeat the purpose of the activity, seeing as Ron didn't look scared at all, but Merrythought looked perfectly content.

The spider grew shoes and it slipped across the floor. Hermione blinked. Was that supposed to be funny? However, it seemed like the Gryffindor house thought it was absolutely hilarious. They howled, and then it was Seamus who went up, clapping Ron on the back.

Seamus's boggart was a banshee, and she wailed loudly. Hermione grimaced as the sound hit her ears, her head throbbing once again, but Seamus quickly got rid of it, changing it in to a clown. He head to the back to the line with a self satisfied look on his face.

"I don't know how the bloody hell you can think with her screaming like that," Ron muttered.

"Practice, mate, practice."

It was Nick's turn, and she was curious to see what it was. However, before he went up, he looked back at her, his face serious. He didn't seem nervous, but there was no choice of his usually twinkling eyes. She offered him a small smile, and he promptly turned around to face the boggart.

She gasped when it changed. The whole class gasped, and Hermione could feel all the eyes on her. Nick's boggart had taken the form of her.

Except she was dead.

Hermione felt her blood pound through her head, her heart beating loudly. Nick's worst fear was her death? She felt her eyes tearing up in both happiness and sadness. She had expected anything _but _this. She had to look away before she starting crying heartfelt tears in front of the class.

However, since he was Nick, he never gave her too much time to grieve.

He waved his wand around and said, "Riddikulus!" Instantly, the boggart changed…to her, being no older than three years old. And other than the little diaper attached on her waist, she was utterly naked. Little Hermione turned to the class, made some gargling sound, and sucked on her thumb.

"_Nick!_" She yelled at him, her face red. He smirked at her as the class laughed at her baby form. Cygnus had the decency to pretend to look away, though she could see a smile forming. Her other friends, though, weren't quite so polite.

"Is that _you_, Squirtle?" Black said, his mouth wide open. "Aren't you cute? I mean, you still are cute, but look at _that_." He clapped his hands together and made some incoherent sounds. "Come here. Come to Mama Orion."

Abraxas glanced at her, amused. "He likes children." He explained. "I think that's why he likes women so much too, because women give him children."

He laughed when she made a disgusted look, and Merrythought cleared her throat loudly. "Yes, yes, we all understand Miss Granger was quite the darling," Hermione felt her cheeks burn up in mortification. "But we have a lesson to finish. Miss Evans, up to the boggart."

"Hey, Squirtle," Black turned around and whispered. "I think I like you better like that."

"Better little or naked?" Hermione turned and scowled at Nick, who was still standing on the Gryffindor side, looking way too pleased with himself. To think that she had felt sad when she saw what his boggart was. He caught her eye and grinned, and she turned away with a huff. She was going to kick him _hard_ later, and she knew just the place to do it.

"What kind of question is that?" Black asked teasingly. "Of course I'd rather see you…uh…" The look she gave him could've made anyone tremble, and he gulped nervously. "Little, of course."

Hermione nodded. "Good."

"Scary," Black muttered under his breath, and Abraxas nudged him in the ribs.

The rest of the Gryffindor side passed by boringly. Hermione almost fell asleep, and was just seconds of falling down multiple times if it had not been Cygnus, frowning and nudging her to keep her awake. Eileen went up, and her worst fear was her dying. No one acted surprised to see this, and Cygnus whispered to her that she and Tom had the same fear.

Interesting.

Black went up, and a woman appeared, yelling at him. He seemed to shrink in to a tiny ball. Cygnus sighed and explained that was their mother. Hermione asked what, other than the yelling, made her formidable, and Cygnus promised to tell her later.

_Is this the tragic past of the Black family that Violetta told me about? _She wondered to herself. It seemed plausible.

Abraxas's fear was having his broom snapped in two, and Hermione almost snorted. Of course a diehard Quidditch fan like him wouldn't worry about the failing grades he was getting. It was all Quidditch for him.

And then there was Tom.

Whispers went around the room, as it always did whenever Tom did anything. "_Do you think it's going to show him dead?" "Of course, silly. Tom's fear is always the same." "Isn't it weird, though? To be _that_ afraid of death?" _

Hermione wondered what death would appear like for him. Would it be like Eileen's, with a knife stuck in to her? Or would it be some elaborate image that only his brain could come up with?

It turns out, it was neither.

Hermione stared as she saw herself prancing around the room happily. The whole room had gone deathly silent, only broken by the humming of boggart Hermione. Even Tom had frozen and stood there, gaping. Boggart Hermione had a ring of flowers on her head, and she was beaming happily. For someone's worse fear, this was not at all formidable.

Hermione was suddenly worried that the boggart had a split personality, just like her, and would reveal to everyone what her mission was. She didn't know if boggarts had the ability to do that. She turned her head slowly towards Tom, who was still looking at it, though she couldn't read the expression on his face. _Why does everyone have a worst fear that includes me?_

Tom seemed to have no plan on moving, so Hermione poked him and said timidly, "Is that really how I seem to you? I'm awfully glittery, aren't I?"

That snapped him out of his stupor, and he smirked at her, but didn't say anything else. He turned back towards the boggart and raised his wand, "Riddikulus!"

She was changed in to a pig. A flattering, mud-covered pig.

She glared at him, and he threw her a cheeky grin, before heading towards the back of the line. Somehow, he had managed to turn a bad situation in his favor. She could still hear laughter behind her as she looked down at the fat pig and grimaced. Oh well, all or nothing. She stepped forward so that she was about a foot away.

The pig transformed to the familiar face of her father, and she heard collective gasps around the room. "How dare you!" He yelled at her, and she fought the urge to shrink back. "You failed a test! You got an E!"

Hermione took a shaky breath. So the boggart couldn't decide which one she feared more, so it decided to combine them both together. Some people were still laughing, but were told who the white-haired man was, and immediately shut up.

"Well?" The boggart said when she didn't respond. "You are a disgrace. You have no right to be my-"

"_Riddikulus!_" She roared, and her father stumbled back, dressed in a pink dress. She felt relief when laughter met her ears again. She was so sure that he was going to say 'my daughter.' That would've been an extremely awkward situation, and one she didn't want to be in.

She offered Cygnus a small smile, and headed towards the back of the room. However, before she could make eye contact with Nick, Tom pulled her aside. "My what?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. "What's your relation with Grindelwald?"

She had been hoping he hadn't heard. "My student, probably," she shrugged. "It combined two of my worst fears, so there was probably a little Grindelwald and a little professor in it."

Hermione could tell he didn't believe it. If it was that easy to trick Tom Riddle, she would've done it years ago. "Why are you afraid of Grindelwald?"

"He killed my mother," Hermione said, and that part was true. Only, she wasn't afraid of him just because of that. But then, most of the wizarding population was afraid of him, weren't they? He _was_ a dark wizard after all. "I think I have the perfect right to be scared of him." She glanced at him. "What about _your_ boggart? It looked like I was a prancing unicorn or something."

Tom looked at her, his lips curling up, before it was completely wiped off. He said stiffly, "I don't believe that was my boggart. I think it was yours. You were right behind me." He cast her a sideways look. "Maybe you're afraid of becoming like that?"

"Don't try to steer away the conversation," she told him. "That was your boggart, and you know it. Now you have some explanation to do."

"It was like the kiss earlier," Tom said stiffly, and Hermione's heart clenched at the mention of it. _So much for not talking about it. _"Don't bother yourself with it." He looked at her, and there was no warmth in his eyes. "It was a mistake."

Before Hermione could do anything other than gap, Merrythought dismissed the class, and Tom grabbed his bag and left the room swiftly. Hermione was left to miserably stare at the spot where he had been, feeling more confused than ever.

ஐ

Hermione plopped on her bed tiredly. Shopping with Eileen had been less fun than she had anticipated, and that was saying a lot. The bar was already pretty low. Nick refused to go with her, saying that he would not go anywhere near Eileen. He had, however, given her a necklace that she _must_ press when she was in danger, and he would come flying in like some super hero to save his damsel in distress.

Needless to say, she dumped it in the Great Lake as soon as she got outside.

Eileen had dragged her in to fifty different stores, and whatever suspicion she had about the girl being a spy flew out the window. Eileen, in her eyes, was just some regular teenage girl who loved clothes a tad bit too much. Hermione would've settled with the first dress she tried on, but Eileen said that she had to try on at least a dozen to even begin making her decision.

She ended up going with her second costume: a lion. Eileen had said it looked perfect on her, and that her 'Slytherin boys' would love it. Hermione told her that she didn't have any Slytherin boys, and that this costume would spark quite the opposite reaction. It would make her seem like she wanted to be in the Gryffindor house, but Eileen was hearing none of that.

Of course it was easy for _her_ to say, as she bought a snake costume.

"Hey," Violetta said, coming in to the dorm. Hermione looked up from her pillow and waved. "You're back. How was it?"

"Imagine shopping with Tracey," Hermione said, and Violetta immediately grimaced. Hermione noticed she was still standing near the door, and motioned for her to sit down next to her.

"Cy told me that he wants to tell you his past," she said. "But he promised to go to Quidditch practice with Orion. They both gave me permission to tell you." She looked at Hermione. "Do you want to hear it, or would you rather wait?"

Hermione shrugged. "If they want me to know, then sure. But if they don't, then I won't push it. I respect their privacy." _Unlike a certain person named Tom Riddle. _Just thinking of him made her heart clench painfully, and she pushed him out of her mind.

"Okay." Violetta took a deep breath. "Cy tells me you guys did boggarts in DADA. Did you see what their fears were?"

"Black's was his mom," Hermione said, thinking hard. "I…er…was distracted when Cygnus went up, but I'm guessing it was his mom as well?" Again, Tom made his way back in to her mind, and this time it was harder to push him out.

Violetta nodded. "Correct. However, long ago, they both loved her. Adored her so much. Yes, it's normal for two sons to love their mother, but their love was _extreme_. They had ultimate trust in her. Their father, they didn't care too much about, but their mother was their life." Violetta paused. "I met her a couple of times, and she was a very likable woman."

Hermione nodded. "She didn't die, did she?"

"No, but I wish she had," Violetta looked at the startled expression on Hermione's face. "What I meant was that it would've been much healthier for both Cy and Orion if she had died. She sold them out. She sold them out so she could keep all the money to herself. Without a heir, the money goes to her."

Hermione grimaced. She didn't like where the story was heading. "How did she sell them about?"

"The Black family is an incredibly powerful and wealthy line of purebloods. As you would expect, they've collected their share of enemies." She shuddered. "They were all too willing to buy them, and they were willing to pay a lot too.

"Their mother decided, after about three or four days after the plan had started, that Lord Black was a powerful enough person, and she decided to let him live. She asked him to join her and betray their sons. He did." Her voice was quite. "They were only seven at the time. Much too young to face any of this. Their mother's betrayal already shocked them, but their father's was the second blow."

"What happened then?" Hermione asked. "How are they alive then?"

"Their aunt saved them," she said. "Her name is Andromeda, but she died trying. They loved her dearly too, and had to watch her die. The two of them were sent to Walburga's house. That's why Orion doesn't like Walburga too much. She is a constant reminder of what he has lost.

"I can't tell you specifically the horrors of the condition they lived in while they were imprisoned. Only the two of them can tell you that, and I don't think they will. It has always been a sore spot for both of them, and I don't think they've ever talked about it before."

"Are they safe now?" Hermione asked, frowning. She thought back to the cheerful Orion, and the calm Cygnus, and she never would've guessed. They were awfully good at covering up their background, almost as good as her. "Are those people still after them?"

"They're safe, yes. The people are still after them, but they are well protected. Despite how annoying Walburga often is, her family is powerful nonetheless. And they aren't going to just hand over one of their relatives." She frowned. "Not like their parents did, anyway."

"Did they ever meet their parents again?"

Violetta shook her head. "They're biding their time. They're learning all they can at Hogwarts. They made a pact with each other. Once they graduate and learn everything they can, they're going to hunt them down. And they're not going to stop until their dead." Violetta grimaced. "The two of them can be quite lethal when they want to be."

Hermione nodded, and was reminded of Tim. On how Tom's vengeance for Tim sending him to the orphanage only grew over time. It seemed like Tom wasn't as patient as the Black brothers, and already got the deed done. She frowned. She didn't want any of them to become killers. It wasn't right to kill just over some mistake their parents had made, stupid or not. The better course would be to ignore them.

…but obviously, she wasn't one to talk.

"Cy doesn't trust too many people after that incident," Violetta continued softly. "He's afraid he'll get hurt again. He may seem like he trusts a lot of people, but deep down, he only has a few people he holds dear." She smiled slightly at Hermione. "I think you might be getting there."

Hermione didn't know what to say, and instead changed the subject. "What about Black? He seems perfectly fine."

Violetta sighed. "Orion, on the other hand, completely lays the blame on his mother. He doesn't trust women anymore. And he's gone out with almost every girl in the school." Hermione stared, and Violetta quickly amended her statement. "Okay, maybe more like half. But still, he goes out with them, and then he breaks their hearts in the cruelest way possible. It's his way of paying back for what a woman did to him so long ago."

"That's not fair," Hermione said. "Not all girls are like his mom."

"I know. I've tried telling him that, but the two of them are stubborn, you know?" Violetta sighed. "It's so sad to see the girl afterwards, though. They all think they're special, but in Orion's eyes, they're just a game."

_What about me?_ Hermione thought. _Is he playing with me? Are _any_ of them playing with me? What if I'm just a time killer to them?_ And then she felt selfish for thinking of herself in a conversation like this.

Violetta seemed to read her mind. "No, I think Orion genuinely likes you." She said. "He thinks of you as a friend, which is more than he does for anyone else."

"Yay," Hermione muttered to herself. "I've been friendzoned."

Violetta looked at her. "Pardon me?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing. But that still doesn't give him the right to hurt girls like that. I'm going to talk to him afterwards." She frowned. "Just because you're in pain doesn't mean everyone else has to be too."

"Yes, you should," Violetta said gently. "Maybe he'll listen to you. This player reputation doesn't suit him well. I can tell he's uncomfortable with it. He likes teasing, but never any commitment. I personally don't think he likes hurting others, either. But he feels like he has to."

"I think the easiest way to get them to change is to capture their parents and bring them back," Hermione stated. "Only, I have no idea how to do that."

"You might be able to get a few leads from them," Violetta shrugged. "Seeing how you fought the men singlehandedly in Hogsmeade, I think you might stand a chance." She cast her a sideways look. "I never got to thank you for saving me, by the way. I owe you."

"It's no problem," Hermione shook her head. "Just consider it a small favor."

Violetta still looked skeptical, but nodded. "Do me another favor, then, and stay with them tomorrow, at least in the morning, will you?" Violetta asked. "I have class, but the three of you don't." She paused. "It's their mother's birthday tomorrow. They never look pretty on that day."

"They never forget?"

"Nope." Violetta said quietly. "Some things you just can't forget."

"I suppose so." Hermione looked outside the window. The Quidditch pitch was in the far distance, and she could make out little figures flying around. She wondered if the two of them were there, acting like nothing was wrong. "But sometimes it's better to forget so you can move on."

Violetta nodded. "I'll let you continue the conversation with them later," she said. "Why don't we switch to a happier topic? Laughter is good for your health."

"Alright," Hermione eyed her suspiciously with the sudden topic change. "What do you have in mind?"

"I want to see your costume," Violetta said. "Cy got one for me, but he says it's a secret, so I can't show you. How were Eileen's skills? They can't be worse than Tracey's, can they?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, they can," she opened her trunk where she had kept the lion costume and pulled it out. "It's hideous. It's a lion."

"A lion?" Violetta wrinkled her nose. "Isn't that the Gryffindor mascot?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. Great choice, isn't it?"

"It looks cute, though," Violetta took it from Hermione's hands and held it up. "Lion or not, I think you'll look beautiful in this."

"That's going a little too far." Hermione grinned as Violetta patted the fur gently. "It's incredibly stuffy in there as well. Not to mention, a lion isn't the right thing to wear on Halloween. Maybe she thought I was scary enough that I could wear whatever costume I wanted and still be able to scare the crap out of everyone."

Violetta suddenly frowned, and froze. Hermione stared at her and asked, "Hey, Violetta?" The girl didn't respond, and instead moved around her fingers in the costume some more. A suspicious look crossed her face. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She flipped the costume inside out and showed Hermione something. "Look," she pointed at it. "I skimmed the costume, and I felt this. Cy always said I had sensitive fingers." She blinked. "What is that?"

And there, lo and behold, attached to the fabric, was a tiny little device that she had used all her life. Except then, she was always the person placing it. Now, it appeared, she was the victim. It was tiny; she could easily see how she missed it. She probably would've never noticed if Violetta had never pointed it out.

It was a bug. One look at it told her it was tracking everything she did.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Aand, we have some Tom and Hermione moments here. Hope you like them. ;) Maybe they weren't as long as you hoped for, but we're getting there. Give them some time, and they'll eventually get there (assuming Tom doesn't run away like a chicken before then.)

Thanks voldyismyfather for giving me the water idea, though not quite in the same context. :D They'll be some more water gun mentions later, though I personally would hate if I were drenched in the middle of October.


	15. Chapter 14 The Halloween Dance

**Author's Note: **And here is the next chapter. I was originally planning on updating tomorrow, but I ended up finishing one day early, so enjoy the update.

Angellwriter- Gabriel is two years older than Hermione, so he's in his seventh year. As for where he has been…I can't answer that. ;) You'll just have to wait and see.

TrixieRixie96-The bug was tracking what she and everyone else around her are saying.

Thanks for the reviews! You guys are the best!

loves2readalways, asd'ldsgldfg, Lost O'Fallon Girl, TheGirlonFire52, TrixieRixie96, TheEscapeFromReality, Trelaney, Vanilla Sensation, Alassea Riddle, Angellwriter, voldyismyfather, Brooke Alanah, Weird-Chik2, morpheusandmus, harmonious, Red Sphinx

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><p>"You did what?"<p>

Avery stammered and took a step backwards in fear, but Tom didn't care. He made sure his eyes flashed red, so the boy could see just how scary he was. He had trained his followers, and the first thing Avery went to do was curse Hermione. And to make matters even worse, he cast a stupid a damn Aguamenti in the middle of the corridor. What was he trying to do, make Hermione die of hypothermia?

His lips curled up slightly. Even if he had cast one of the three Unforgivables, Hermione could've easily beat him, though she was on crutches. Her magical skills were superior to everyone, except for him, of course. The duel didn't mean anything; he was sure both of them were holding back quite a lot. He would have to lure her out of school if he wanted her to duel properly. He smirked. He couldn't wait to see the glint in her eyes, the beautiful dangerous look on her face while she tried curse him.

Tom looked darkly down at Avery, who was bowed and trembling by his feet. _Disgusting_. How dare he touch Hermione. She was only his to touch, and his to curse if he pleased. She was _his_. It seemed like his followers were starting to get a little disobedient. Maybe a few punishments were in order. It would not do if Hermione was uncomfortable around him.

"Did I ask you to attack Hermione?" He asked coldly, and Avery trembled with fear, eyeing the wand in his hand. Orion and Abraxas were sitting a couple feet away, though he wasn't going to punish _them_ anytime soon. They were faithful, they were obedient, and they could cast more curses in their sleep than Avery could. Not to mention, Hermione seemed to enjoy their presence. However, if they started getting too close, he wouldn't hesitate; Hermione was only for him. Not even they were worthy enough of her.

Cygnus had told him that he was spending the day with Violetta, but Tom didn't take that as a surprise. Orion's brother always came up with some sort of excuse to skip the meetings, but he let him skip them. Partly because he was Orion's brother, and partly because he was faithful as well. He was also an extremely skilled wizard. He served Tom well, and Lord Voldemort always rewarded his followers.

Hermione had stumbled upon their little meeting once, hadn't she? It was the darkest, most secret corridor in the whole entire castle. He wondered where she had been trying to go. There was nothing around this part of the castle; not even _Dumbledore_ came here, which was why he chose this specific location. He had asked her about it, but she had refused to answer. She never answered anything he asked, anyway, so he wasn't surprised. But what he _was_ shocked by was how open _he_ was with her.

He had told her about Amy. He wondered why he did. It wasn't something he just shared with anyone. In fact, no one but he, Amy and Dennis knew about it, and the latter two were in no condition to talk. Then, he thought of the event that he sparked afterwards. What the hell was he thinking? Lord Voldemort did not go kissing random girls. Maybe if she had something Tom wanted. Did she? She had information. That had to be it. There was no other reason why he would do something so rash.

And his boggart…he shuddered. He had thought he saw wrong at first, but the reaction of the class showed that the prancing girl in front of him had been real. Was he afraid of her? Lord Voldemort was afraid of _no one_. He certainly didn't feel fear near her. More like…he was intrigued. But he definitely felt no fear towards her. Maybe the boggart had been toying with him. He was going to have to sneak out one night and curse the boggart in the worst way possible.

"My Lord," Lestrange crouched next to Avery. Tom turned his cold, pitiless eyes towards him. He was equally to blame about the incident. He expected his two oldest followers to set a better example than this. Walburga could be easily scared by a few minor curses by Orion, though nothing big or suspicious. Gabriel could be taken care of when he went to the Manor the following break. He narrowed his eyes; no one would mess with his Hermione and get away with it. "I—_We_ didn't know you didn't want us to touch her."

"Yes," Avery scrambled to say. "We apologize, Master, and hope you can forgive us for touching the mudblood."

Without warning, Tom flicked his wand and Avery flew across the floor, landing on his face painfully. Tom shot one glare at Lestrange, who immediately froze and bowed his head. Tom took slow, careful steps towards the lump. "You call her mudblood one more time," Tom threatened. "And I'll chop off your tongue."

Abraxas was staring at Avery in disgust. Black was whispering to Nott, who frowned. Nott was faithful as well, but not as able as Abraxas and the Black brothers, and wasn't as athletic either. "B-but, Master," Avery protested. "What should I call her then?"

He dared to talk back? "You can get on your knees and beg to address her by Master." A cruel smirk twisted on his face, illuminated by the dim glowing torches on the wall. "She's too good for you."

"But she's a _mudblood_!" Avery whined, and Tom sent a Cruciatus at him. His screams filled the corridor, though none of his followers looked away. Nott was looking on with an excessive amount of excitement, while Lestrange looked like he was scared he was next. Both Abraxas and Orion watched, their eyes dark, and Tom knew that Avery's comment had gotten to both of them.

"I warned you," Tom said coldly, finally releasing Avery. He panted and lay pathetically on the ground, attempting to pick himself up. "Would you like if I started calling you mudblood?"

Avery shook his head fearfully, but then Lestrange spoke up. "My Lord," he said. Tom looked at him, wondering if he was brave or simply stupid for speaking up at a time like this. "Forgive me for being disrespectful, My Lord, but we were informed the girl was indeed a…" He paused. "muggleborn."

Tom arched a delicate eyebrow and turned towards him, and Avery let out an audible sigh of relief. Oh, he wasn't done with him yet. Not even close. "And who is this source?"

"Walburga, My Lord," Lestrange cast his eyes down. Tom sneered at him; the boy was all too willing to rattle everyone out as long as he got what he wanted. _Coward._

"Walburga is a fool," he said, and then glanced back sharply at Avery. The boy had managed to somewhat crawl away, but immediately froze when he realized that Tom's attention was back on him. "Going somewhere, Avery?"

"N-no, Master."

"Good," Tom's lips curled. "Because we're not done yet." He lazily cast a second Cruciatus, and Avery wailed and flailed. He absentmindedly wondered when screams had stopped bothering him. Maybe it was around the time when he actually discovered what he wanted to do with his life: he wanted to become immortal.

"Do not make false accusations," Tom told him frostily once Avery was released from the curse. "Why would you feel the need to listen to a young, petty schoolgirl?" Avery whimpered. "Hermione is a half blood. The noble house of Slytherin doesn't accept anyone lower."

It was true. He had found out he was the Heir of the Slytherin last year, and had started working on his chamber. It would only be a matter of time before he released Slytherin's noble work on the castle. Then, everyone could see how truly brilliant the founder was. And he, Tom Riddle, was _related_ to him.

"Y-yes, My Lord. I understand. I won't touch her."

"Make sure you don't," Tom said, his eyes flashing red. Avery shrunk back. "I've just come across this spell in my textbook." He smiled eerily at Avery. "Well, aren't you going to ask what it is?"

Avery looked like he wanted to do anything but. "M-master, what was the spell on?"

"What an interesting question, Avery," he sent the boy a sickening sweet smile. "Once it touches human flesh, it eats its way through the body and won't stop until it fully devours everything. It starts with the skin, and then makes its way to the vital organs." Tom played with his wand. "Would you like to see how your corpse looks like, Avery?"

"N-no!" Avery added quickly. "My Lord."

Tom looked at him for a couple more seconds, before swinging over to his left. "Abraxas," he said coldly. "I expect you'll take better care of your brother from now on. And you as well, Orion, with your cousin."

"Yes, My Lord," they both answered simultaneously. Tom sneered. How nice it was to be called by his proper title again. Hearing his disgusting muggle father's name spewed around would simply not do. He couldn't wait until he could use his _real_ name. Lord Voldemort.

He had told Hermione his name too. That was pathetic of her to ask him while he was drunk, but he was a hypocrite, was he not? Her tongue was zipped shut almost as much as his was, which made him resort to the most pathetic methods known to mankind. No matter now, though; he was coming close to breaking her. He could feel it. By the way she leaned in to the kiss…

Tom frowned. But he too had enjoyed it, hadn't he? That would simply not do. He would have to put aside these pesky schoolboy feelings and focus on the bigger objective. Destroy Dumbledore and rule the world. Of course, he would also murder Grindelwald. The man was simply becoming more and more of a nuisance. Why would Hermione fear him as her worst fear? What was her relation to him?

"My Lord," Nott came forward and knelt before him. Tom's eyes flicked to him. "My father has found the lead on Hepzibah Smith, as you had asked."

At least some of them weren't that useless. They all had no idea why she was so important to him, but he had a feeling that Abraxas guessed. And Hermione…she had seen enough hints and she was by no means stupid, so it would be fairly easy for her to figure it out as well. The horocruxes were his secret. He really had to stop letting his guard down around her. Not to mention, who knew if she knew what he did with his disgusting father…

"My father says she has moved from Romania to Albania," Nott continued. "He also would be pleased to book you an airplane flight for tonight if you so please."

Tom sneered. Pureblood wealthy people, so easy to please. If he had that much money, he wouldn't spend it pleasing a silly schoolboy, no matter if that said schoolboy was destined to the greatest wizard the world would ever know. They were all so eager to help him.

"I will not be leaving tonight," Tom said coldly, and Nott bowed his head. "It would be too suspicious to Dumbledore if I leave in the middle of the year."

"I will go, My Lord," Avery volunteered.

Tom narrowed his eyes and the boy flinched. What did he think he was, stupid? There was no way such an important mission like this was going to go anywhere close to the stupid boy. "Do you want to help me, Avery? Or were you just looking for an excuse to get out of school?"

Avery froze. "I-I want to help you, My Lord."

"Lies," He hissed, circling around the boy. The boy was truly pathetic. If it hadn't been his father's tremendous influence on the wizarding society, Tom would've never even considered inviting Avery in to this group. "Do not lie to me, Avery. Do you know what I do to liars?"

Avery seemed to not be able to respond.

"My Lord," Orion interrupted, and Tom turned his head to him. They hadn't had a meeting in a long time, so he often forgot about Orion's dangerous side. He was such a goofball in public, Tom had forgotten the way his eyes glinted dangerously before he cursed his victims. "Crabbe told me that Peter Pettigrew, a Gryffindor sixth year, is starting to follow him around and asking questions about you."

"Didn't I tell him to be careful?" Tom narrowed his eyes. This would not do. If suspicion arose around him, Dumbledore would be down his throat in a matter of mere seconds. One single legilimency spell on one of his followers would be the end of him. He would have to teach his followers occlumency soon. "Crabbe is a fool."

Orion didn't flinch, unlike Avery, who had now crawled away and was attempting to compose himself after the after effects of the Cruciatus. "Crabbe says that Pettigrew has been poking holes for awhile. Crabbe thinks that Pettigrew wants to join."

A Gryffindor, join a group run by the heir of Slytherin? That was unthinkable. "Tell Crabbe that he can use whatever measure he deems fit to…fix Pettigrew's brain. And tell him he will come to me immediately and explain why he did not see fit to deem us with his presence here."

Tom looked around irritably. So many of his 'loyal' followers were not here. Did they think they could avoid him? In such a small school? He would have to spend some of his free time tracking them down, and showing them exactly what happened when one defies Lord Voldemort.

He looked over at his group, and spoke slowly. "The Halloween Dance it this weekend," he said. "I trust that all of you know your roles." All of his followers nodded. His eyes scanned around, but he found no sign of lying. Interesting. That was a first. Either they were all telling the truth, which he highly doubted, or they were training to shut him out. If that was the case, then he had some work to do as well. "If you do not know, I advise you find out, or you'll face my wrath." He directed his next statement towards Avery. "I trust you know how scary my wrath is?"

Avery nodded fearfully.

"Excellent." Tom's lips curled up. "You are dismissed."

ஐ

"I feel so silly in this,"

Nick laughed and reached over to pat her head. He ruffled her mane. "I think you look cute."

He was still unsufferable, of course, no matter how much he complimented her. She had ran to him straight with the bug, and they had spent _hours_ recording Hermione's voice so they could play it the night of the dance.

"_Don't want Eileen to get too suspicious," he pointed out. "By doing this, she'll hear you and still think the bug is safely in place."_

Of course, it just wasted so much of her study time. Ancient Runes had come and gone, and she was once again defeated by Tom, though this time he didn't even look her way. Hermione felt her heart clench, but looked away. One boy wouldn't be the end of her.

Thanks to frequent visits to Pomfrey, her leg had healed rather well, and she could now walk around. Of course, running was still painful for her, but at least she wouldn't have to carry the annoying crutches around with her. She had given them to Violetta, who had fun swinging back and forth.

Hermione grinned at him. "On the bright side, I think I look better than you," Nick scowled down at his reindeer costume, and then went cross-eyed to look at the huge red ball stuck on his face. "Very scary, Nick. Your nose is going to electrocute me."

"Shut up. Lily made me wear it." Nick gestured over to the redhead who was over at the food table, giggling at something Remus Lupin said. Hermione frowned; based on all the symptoms that the boy was showing, he seemed to be a werewolf. But she couldn't just go up and ask him, and she thought werewolves were not allowed in the school in the first place.

"Ooh, Nick's _whipped_," Hermione giggled, and Nick scowled at her. "Are you going out with her now? I'm offended. I thought we were friends." She pouted childishly. "Aren't you supposed to tell me everything?"

"Like you tell me what's going on between you and Riddle," Nick shot back, and it was Hermione's turn to scowl. "There's nothing between Lily and I, anyway. She's using me as a toy to get someone jealous."

"And you're okay with that?" Hermione asked, looking around. She spotted Violetta and Cygnus laughing about something in the corner, while Black stood next to them, the other two not minding him much. He didn't look too offended though; he was busy blowing kisses at any girl that looked his way. _Speaking of Black, he and I need to have a talk…_

"Yep," Nick grinned at her skeptical face. "What, can't believe that I'm helping out a damsel in distress? I mean, look at my face." He gestured towards himself. "It's the typical prince face. Can't you see it?"

"Of course not," Hermione crossed her arms. "Knowing you, you got something out of it. What did you trade?"

Nick smirked to confirm her suspicions, but didn't say anything else. Before Hermione could inquire him further, Ron came over, dragging Seamus behind him. "Hey Hermione, hey Nick!" He greeted cheerfully. He was dressed as a huge ball of fire that reminded Hermione of the thing Mario would always determinedly walk in to to suicide in Nintendo games. "Are you two here together?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, as the same time Nick said, "No."

"You want to come here as my date?" Nick raised an eyebrow. "How flattering, but I think I'll have to pass. I don't fancy dancing with a lion."

Hermione swatted at him. "If you want to dance with Lily to get your hidden motive, then fine. No need to break my poor heart. I'll just dance by myself here." To be honest, she had hoped that Nick would stay with her, though it was selfish request on her part. She didn't want to face Tom right now, and he was less likely to talk to her if Nick was with her.

"I was more under the impression that you wanted to dance with Riddle."

"Tom?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Now why would I dance with that idiot?" Nick looked at her sharply. She hadn't told him anything that had gone on between her and Tom, but it _was_ rather private. Hermione thought back to his cold, unblinking eyes as he told her off, and was surprised to feel her eyes moisten slightly. She quickly put them down, but Nick narrowed his eyes.

Nick shook his head, sighing. "You two have the weirdest relationship…" he trailed off. "Well, you better think of a reason why you don't want to dance with him," Nick said, staring at something behind her. "Because it looks like he's coming over here right now."

Hermione spun around, and what Nick said was true. The devil himself was striding towards her leisurely, though he certainly didn't look like a devil. His hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore a suit and a tie. _What kind of costume is that?_

"Hermione," Tom greeted politely, not looking at anyone else. There was no anger in his voice, and Hermione glanced at him suspiciously. Ron was frowning slightly, but Seamus dragged him away, saying something about items to blow up in the bathroom. Nick stood protectively behind her, wearing a scowl. "You look lovely."

"Thanks," Hermione said shortly, and spun away. She felt him grip her arm tightly, but would not turn back to look at him. The two of them engaged in a tug of war contest that only ended when Hermione wrenched her arm away. Everyone else in the room was staring, though some tried to hide it more than others. Abraxas saw them and frowned, heading over. Nick was watching them with narrowed eyes, but didn't move to stop Tom. It seemed like he was waiting for Hermione's permission, lest he did something she didn't want him to do.

_He's such a good person._

"Why are you running away?" Tom asked innocently, and she glared at him. If he thought everything could get away just like that, he was terribly mistaken. "I do hope you're not scared by my costume." _Yep, I am absolutely terrified of a tie and a suit._

"I wasn't aware that you wanted to talk to me," Hermione said, and Tom winced as if he had been slapped in the face. _But this is nothing new. You always knew he was a good actor. _"I wouldn't want to repeat past mistakes."

Tom frowned. Abraxas had gotten to them, and he glared at Nick, who was still standing there, arms crossed. Nick met his eyes, and his look clearly said that there was more important things than house unity at the current moment. After awhile, Abraxas sighed and agreed. "You know I didn't mean that."

"On contrary, I think you did," Hermione looked around the crowd to see if there was any person she could run away to. She needed to get away from Tom for a few minutes. "I wouldn't want to force my presence on you."

"You don't." Tom said. "Why won't you forgive me? Would it be better if I apologized?"

"Two words mean nothing," Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "After all, you broke off any chance of us being friends with just four."

Tom looked too startled to say anything, and Hermione used her silence to her advantage and stomped out of the Great Hall. She was grateful that no one followed her, though felt rather bad for leaving Nick by himself. _Oh well, he's going to come after me with questions later anyway, so we'll be even. _

She spotted a small lump sitting on the fields, and headed over. "Black?" she called out, and Black looked up from the spot where he was seated on the grass. He was dressed as a dark prince, which rather suited him. His expression, however, shocked her. No smile was present on his face. Instead, his eyes held a distant look.

She remembered Violetta's request that she stayed with both Black and Cygnus for their mother's birthday, but the two of them had been excused from school to visit their mother's grave. They stayed out quite late, from what she heard from Abraxas, and she hadn't seen them since.

"Hey, Squirtle," he said, motioning for her to join him. She sat down next to him. He looked at her, before turning and staring in to the Forbidden Forest. "I like your costume."

"Thanks, I like yours too," Hermione commented. "It's better than mine. I feel like I'm suffocating in here." She rubbed her sweaty hands on the legs of the costume. She snuck a peak at him. He still wasn't showing any emotion. Was it her? Did she smell or something?

Black suddenly blurted out, "She told you, didn't she?"

Hermione blinked. "Who told me what?"

"Violetta," Black took a deep breath. "She told you about me, didn't she?" Hermione nodded slowly, and he let out a shaky laugh. "Go on, then." He said. "I'm ready."

He was being more than confusing. "Ready for what?"

Black looked surprised that she hadn't caught on right away. "Ready to yell at me, of course."

Hermione couldn't help but notice that Black looked like a sad, kicked puppy. "I'm not going to yell at you," she tried to reassure him. "We don't even need to talk about it right now if you don't want to. I know it's hard for you and Cygnus, but-"

"No," Black cut her off. "You're lying."

Hermione only gaped at him, surprised, but Black apparently thought of her silence as a sign of her agreement. "You're disgusted by me," Black continued. "About what I do to girls, and what girls did to me in my past. Everyone is. You don't need to lie to make me feel better."

"Black," Hermione began.

"I honestly don't know why you think I want to hear you spout lies," Black said, an edge in his voice. "It's completely pointless. If I wanted to hear lies, I would tell them to myself."

"Listen to me-"

"Or did you come here to laugh at me? Go ahead, then. You get front row seats to watch me break down." His voice was sour, bitter. "Do you have a camera with you? I bet you could take a picture and sell it for at least a couple hundred galleons."

The fact that he still had the energy to be egoistic annoyed her. "ORION BLACK," she all but yelled at him. He blinked, but his eyes were still dull. To emphasize her point, she slapped him across the face.

He blinked at her, and then slowly brought his hand to rub the stinging red hand print on his face. Hermione began to speak before he could cut her off again. "I am _not_ mad at you," She said strictly. "Of course, we have to have a talk about what you were planning to do with people, but why would I be mad at you for all you've been through?" She smiled gently at him. "I'm not that mean, am I?"

"Yes you are," Black said, rubbing his face. "You slapped me."

"You deserved it," Hermione said, and Black didn't argue. "Anyway, let's talk." Her voice softened. "Are you really going to kill your parents?"

"I don't know," Black buried his head in his hands and let out a hoarse laugh. "Cy and I have always worked with that goal in our mind, but is it really worth it? It's been so many years and I can't even remember her that well anymore. Sure, what she has done what Cy and I still sticks as clear as day, but I can't remember her that much." His voice was sad. "Yet I still love her."

Hermione thought of her own father. He was cruel not just to her, but to everyone else in the world. Yet she still stayed with him, despite everything that he had done to her. Sure, she was afraid of him, but was it only because of that? Did she still hold her feelings for him, feelings for when she was little, and he introduced her to magic? Feelings from the time when he acted like a kind, caring father? Hermione didn't want to know the answer.

"I know you do," Hermione said quietly. "You wouldn't have visited your mother's grave if you didn't."

Black shrugged, but said nothing else. Hermione decided to use his silence to continue talking and said, "Now, I believe you had something else to say to me. About you, and what you do to the girls." She frowned at him, to let him know exactly what she thought about the topic.

"Oh, that," He looked at her, as if needing to make sure he saw her reaction to his words. He raked a hand through his hair and sighed. "I use girls to relieve my anger."

Hermione sighed. "That's messed up, you know?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Not that I approve of what you're doing," Hermione cast him a sideways glance. "But out of curiosity, how many girls have you…er…" she blushed slightly, and the first signs of a grin snuck on Black's face. "Slept with?"

"Are you looking for names, or numbers?" Black raised an eyebrow. "Because numbers would be a hell lot easier."

Hermione blinked. "That many? You know an exact number?"

Black looked insulted. "Of course I know."

"Do I want to know?" she asked.

"Depends," Black shrugged. He was so nonchalant about this whole thing, it rather scared Hermione. "Are you scared of big numbers? Because I would close your ears if you are."

Hermione scowled at him. He was a fifth year. How bad could it be? "No, I want to know. Tell me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Black said. He paused for the effect. "I've slept with none. Zero. Nada."

Hermione's jaw dropped down, and she stared. "N-none?" she asked, wondering if she heard right. He smirked at her surprised face.

"Your impression of me wounds me," Black said. "You seem to have gotten the idea that I sleep with everyone I see." Black grimaced. "I don't need to sleep with them to break them, you know."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Hermione's voice was more bitter than she anticipated, as her mind flew to Tom. Was it true what she said to him? Was she really broken because of his four little words? She always thought she was stronger than that. Letting a person hold so much power over her…her father would be displeased.

Black paused, and then looked at her. "What's going on between you and Tom?"

Was he a mind reader of what? Was it a skill one acquired after hanging around Tom too much? "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously and slowly.

"The tension between the two of you has been so thick since the DADA lesson," Black explained. "And I heard you two mention something about a kiss. So spill." Black caught her look. "You two suck at whispering."

Hermione was sure she was blushing. She hated that Tom had that effect on her. She couldn't even think about him without her skin turning color. What was she, a chameleon? "I am interrogating you, Black. Don't try and change the subject."

"Nope, this is much more interesting," Apparently, their little chat had lifted his mood tremendously, and he was now grinning again. "So you like Tom, right?" He only laughed when Hermione shook her head. "Don't listen to Abraxas. He'll try to warn you about Tom. While you should definitely be careful around him, you're tough enough. You even beat him in a duel."

"By falling on him," Hermione muttered.

Black ignored her. "So, how do you like his costume? I'm sure you love it. I know for a fact that boys getting properly dressed up can turn on girls," he gave her a self satisfying smirk. "I also know for a fact that Tom himself can turn on girls quite well."

"Of course," Hermione glared at him darkly. "I forgot. You're the specialist in this."

"Glad you noticed." Black shot her a sideways glance. "Do you want to know how he got that costume? I know you're curious. Aren't you going to ask about it?"

"No." _Though I _am_ rather curious._

"Too bad, I'm going to tell you anyway. So, as you probably know, Trace was absolutely desperate to go with him," Hermione was surprised to hear a scoff in his voice. Sure, she knew that Black used girls, but she had thought that he would've at least considered Tracey a friend. It looked like that was not the case. "Tom has never been interested in shopping, so he said yes when Tracey offered to shop for him. Guess what she bought him?"

"Give me a hint,"

"Pink and sparkly," Black offered.

"Vampire."

Black stared, clearly confused. Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. Tell me."

"Your creativity sucks," Black laughed. "Tracey's is much better," Hermione glowered at him. "But it's a bad creative. Well, bad for Tom and hilarious for us. She bought him," Black paused for the effect. "A unicorn costume."

"A _what_?"

"Unicorn," Black grinned. "It was pretty shiny too. You should have seen Tom's face when he saw it. He was speechless, while Tracey thought it was the best thing she had ever gotten him. Imagine her face when he chased her out."

"Did she leave the costume?" Hermione asked, finding the situation rather hilarious.

"Of course she did, but Tom threw it in the fireplace as soon as she left," Black rolled his eyes. "Then Tracey comes back in and claims she forgot something, and Tom makes up this bizarre story about how I accidently threw the costume out the window. There are _no_ windows in the common room." Black snorted. "Unfortunately, Trace bought it, and is now not talking to me. Apparently, she poured her heart and devotion in to that piece of pink cloth."

"I thought you didn't like her," Hermione said, unable to hold back her giggles as she imaged Tom dressed in a unicorn costume. If only she had been there to take a picture. Then, she remembered _why_ she had not been there, and sobered immediately.

Black glanced at her as she quieted down, but didn't comment on it. "Actually, I'm surprised you haven't noticed. I'm a lot like Cy, actually," he grinned. "Guess how?"

"You're secretly best friends with Violetta," Hermione guessed, and blinked when an embarrassed expression crossed his face. It was gone in mere seconds, but Hermione stared. "Wait, don't tell me, you like Violetta?"

Black looked around in panic, and then turned back to Hermione. His face was all the confirmation she needed. "Please don't tell Cy," Black pleaded. "He would actually murder me."

Hermione doubted that Cygnus would do so, but she nodded anyway. The two brothers were really complicated, weren't they? One secret after another. "I won't tell anyone." Hermione said. "As long as you don't start rumors about Tom and me."

"I don't think they're all rumors," Black grinned as she smacked him. "Alright, where were we? Oh yes. Cy and I are not alike because of Violetta," Black coughed and looked away, and Hermione felt herself smiling widely. "We don't like many people."

"Excluding Violetta."

Black groaned. "I am going to regret talking to you."

"You should always regret talking to me," Hermione said quietly, looking at the castle. Soft music met her ears as she watched the couples dance together. Black glanced at her sharply, but she took no notice. She saw Nick's blue hair mesh with Lily's, though the girl was dragged away halfway by a boy that looked quite like Harry. Nick didn't seem upset, and instead grinned and headed off in the other direction. _He sometimes is too nice for his own good._

"I don't know what happened between you and Tom," Black said, interrupting her thoughts. "But _I_ enjoy talking to you, if that counts for anything. You should be flattered."

There was an egoistic way in his talking, but a bit of friendship in it as well, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she had taken his presence for granted. She should really treat him better. Then, she thought of him squirting her in the face with water and took all the positive things back. He did not deserve anything from her.

"Tom's not good at expressing his feelings," Black continued. "He probably pushed you away, didn't he?" He laughed at Hermione's expression. "The four of us, Cy, Abraxas, Tom and I have been together since forever. And even though Tom likes to close himself in a little box, we've learned to read him and pick out the little signs. And the signs are pointing to him liking you right now."

Hermione snorted so loudly that Black looked slightly insulted. "Sorry, but the signs are wrong. Tom Riddle, liking _me_? Ha!" She laughed, and Black scowled at her. "Yep, and pigs fly."

Black just stared at her blankly and transfigured the rock next to his foot in to a small pig with wings. It flew around, snorting, until Black transfigured it back. "I just proved your point invalid."

Hermione ignored him. "It doesn't have to be me, actually. Tom falling in love with anyone is just…I don't know. It's weird." _The closest Tom gets to love is with Amy_, Hermione thought. _And even that doesn't count as love. _

"Why did Tom kiss you then?" Black pressed. "And don't you tell me it's for information. He does not kiss everyone that he wants information from…" Black frowned. "Strike that. He does. But how do you explain his boggart?"

Hermione had no answer for that. Black had a smirk on his face that he only wore when he knew he had won. She decided to change the subject. "Oh, psh, enough about me," she said, trying to sound like Tracey. Black chuckled. "When are you going to ask Violetta out?"

Black groaned. "Not this again."

"You know you want to talk about it."

"I do not."

"You're going to have to stop playing with other girls, you know," Hermione told him seriously. "Violetta is not that kind of girl. If you want a chance with her, you'll have to prove you're willing to go into a real relationship and be devoted to just one girl."

"It's no use," Black shook his head. "You think I don't notice how she is with Cy? I know where her feelings lay, and they're not going to change anytime soon. I'm not going to take one of the only happy points in Cy's life away. Plus, I perfectly fine with being the arsehead I am."

Hermione looked at Black skeptically. "Nope, I don't think you are. I think you're silently dying on the inside."

Black snorted. "Sorry, but I'm not that dramatic. My insides are still perfectly intact."

Hermione reached over and poked him in the side. "I beg to differ, Black."

"Are we having a poke war, Squirtle?" Black laughed, inching closer to her. "Because if we are, prepared to have your arse kicked."

They didn't end up having a poke war. Instead, it escalated in to a full blown cat fight, with the two of them pawing and clawing at each other. Hermione was sure their laughter could be heard inside ballroom, but she didn't care.

When her father had told her about her mission, she was immediately against it. Not because she had any doubts about her skills, but because of the people around her. After Nick had run away, she had had no one, and wasn't too keen on getting attached to anyone ever again. No one could have her back the way Nick had. Yet here she was now, placing herself in the care of some friends who accepted her even though she had secrets. She truly appreciated what others did to her now. It was no longer about the physical aspects. They were with her mentally, and that was all that counted. Hermione wondered if she was changing.

She hoped she was.

"And how old are you?" A familiar voice echoed from above them. "Too old to be cat fighting for sure." Hermione sighed. He seemed to have a knack at interrupting things just when they were getting fun. Tom was standing, looking down at the two of them. His tie had disappeared, and Hermione wondered if it was in Tracey's hands. Then, she wondered why she cared. She felt Black nudge her and whisper in her ear, "_Have you ever thought of giving him a second chance?" _

She had not, but only because she hadn't even thought about giving him a first. This was not like her to feel attracted to someone who knew more than he should, and who wanted to know even more. She hadn't even considered them compatible. She should be like her father, lead him on and hurt him in the worst way possible.

But she was not her father.

"Hey," Hermione greeted, standing up and brushing herself off. Black sat up, but remained seated. "How's your night going?"

His eyes bore into hers, and his face was impassive. "Are you talking to me now?"

"I never said I wasn't," Hermione pointed out, beaming up at him. He was looking at her suspiciously. "Would you like to dance with me, Tom?"

Black laughed from behind her, and when the both of them looked at him, he waved them off, still chuckling. "Don't mind me, I'm going back inside." He waved at Tom and gave Hermione a little wink. She was happy to see him back to himself once against she forgave him for the wink, just this once. He disappeared in to the ballroom, and it was just Tom and her again.

"Well, then," Hermione said, as Tom stood there silently, seemingly having no intention to do anything. "Are you going to make me ask twice?"

"No one dances at the Halloween ball."

Hermione smiled at him and repeated herself. "Do you want to dance, Tom?"

"You want to dance with me?" Tom raised an eyebrow. The light illuminated his face, making him look more dangerous, yet more handsome at the same time. "I was under the impression that you disliked me."

"The past is the past," Hermione waved him off, and dragged him back inside. He resisted for a couple of seconds, until Hermione unleashed her worst glare on him, and he reluctantly followed. She beamed back at him, and he was looking at her suspiciously. "Time's a wastin'."

"I do hope you know what you're doing," Tom replied smoothly, stepping delicately in to the ballroom. As soon as he appeared, several people started floating over. Tom paid them no mind. "I have a reputation to uphold, after all, and it wouldn't do if my companion couldn't dance."

"Don't worry," Hermione grinned up at him. "I will step on your shoes so many times they will be ruined."

She let Tom drag her to the middle of the ballroom, where she fulfilled her promise in ruining his shoes. He did scold her a couple of times, but didn't leave her to go dance with Tracey, who was watching angrily from the side. At that moment, Hermione didn't care about the fact that everyone was watching. The only thing that mattered was the charming young man in front of her.

Of course, she didn't know that a pair of eyes were watching her from behind the bathroom door. The said person raised their cameras and clicked multiple shots of the duo.

"_My Lord_," the person said in to their phone. _"I have the proof."_

ஐ

Hermione shook her arms around, grateful at the freedom. While dancing with Tom had been fun, she couldn't wait until the night was over so she could take off her ridiculous lion costume. She changed in to the sports gear that Black had given her, and tied her hair up.

It was time for some paintballing.

She had told Nick about it, and he had snorted, saying something that the people in Slytherin had nothing better to do with their time. He had told her to have fun, but to not work her leg too much, and also to watch out for Eileen. It turned out he didn't need to worry; Eileen didn't show up at all. She had headed towards the library, where Nick promised to keep close supervision over her.

Tracey had seemed to deem Hermione a threat, and announced that she was going to play this year. Walburga couldn't have cared less. Tom or not, she wasn't going to go anywhere near Hermione, and left to talk with Gabriel. Abraxas's brother had decided not to play, and Hermione frowned. _Why has he been in the school the whole time and I haven't noticed him? _She thought. _Where is he sneaking off to? _

"Everyone, line up!" Black yelled in to a microphone. The three girls assembled on one side, and all the boys on the other. Avery shot her a snide look when Tom wasn't looking, and she narrowed her eyes at him, before turning her back firmly on him. "Is everyone here? Perfect. Now, my little bro here will tell you about the special new rules we have."

Cygnus scowled, obviously not pleased about being called 'little bro,' and took the microphone from his brother. "This year, as you all recall, it was Nott's year to buy the guns." Hermione saw everyone turn towards a short, scrawny boy who scratched his head sheepishly. "But of course, the idiot forgot. Thanks to him, we are left with no equipment other than the balloons and the paint. Therefore, we are simply going to throw balloons at each other."

Boos could be heard around the room, and Eleanor cleared her throat. Instantly, silence fell over the room and everyone looked at her. Tracey scowled darkly, obviously not pleased that someone other than herself was getting the attention.

"Can't we just transfigurate something?" Eleanor asked, and obviously for Tracey's benefit, she threw her hair behind her shoulder, causing many guys to ogle at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and mentally gagged. The girls here were…shallow, to put it nicely.

"We could've," Cygnus said. "Except that idiot waited until we were all in here until he told us about it. You know the rules. No getting out until a team wins. There's nothing here to transfigure either," he pointed at the large maze in front of them. "Everything in there is a necessary obstacle."

Eleanor shrugged, but stayed silent. No one else seemed to have a better suggestion, and Black took the microphone back. "Like always, Cy and I are the captains of the teams." He announced cheerfully, and many people booed this. He grinned. "The teams were drawn earlier, and it seemed fair, so here we go." He flicked his wand once, and lines of writing appeared on the wall.

Hermione scanned down both lines. She was in Cygnus's team. She hadn't particularly cared which team she ended up on. She looked at her teammates, then at the other team. _Fair my arse. _Abraxas, Eleanor, Tracey and Tom were all on the other side. Avery, Lestrange and Nott were as well. She didn't recognize anyone besides Cygnus on her team. He shot her an apologetic look and mouthed, '_I didn't pick them.'_

"This is not fair," someone called from next to her. His face was rather pointy and squashed. "You guys got all the good people, and we're stuck with this girl," Hermione blinked as he gestured at her.

Cygnus glared angrily at him. "Flint," he said coldly, and the other boy met his gaze evenly. "Shut up."

Black was frowning, and then an idea seemed to pop up. "We'll trade," he said gleefully. "We'll trade Trace for Hermione." He gestured towards the girl who was clinging to Tom happily. She glared at Black when he spoke, but didn't seem to notice that Tom wasn't looking at her at all. _She's still as slow as ever._

"Do it," Flint said, eyeing Hermione in disgust. Hermione sighed. Did everyone in the Slytherin house hate her? It sure seemed like it. "Come on, at least Tracey can seduce some of them, which is more than I can say for this-"

A red jet flew past his head, missing him by just a few centimeters. Flint turned around slowly, eyes wide. Tom stood there, wand in hand, smiling pleasantly at him. "Sorry, my hand slipped," he said smoothly. "Were you saying something?"

"N-no," Flint looked away. "We can begin now."

Cygnus nodded. "Good. Each team has ten minutes to devise a plan for ten minutes, and when the bell rings, it's time to head in to the maze. Everyone got it?" Everyone nodded. Two doors opened on both sides of the room, and Cygnus nodded at his brother. "Ten minutes starting now."

"Good luck, little bro," Black said gleefully, leading his team in to the opposite room. "You'll need it."

Cygnus scowled and closed the door behind him. As soon as all of them were in the room together, Flint rounded on Hermione. "I vote we use her as bait,"

Before anyone could agree or disagree with the idea, Hermione turned to Cygnus. It wouldn't do to start a fight in the room. They were supposed to be a team, not enemies. "So, basically, if you get hit with a balloon, you're out?"

"Duh," Flint rolled his eyes, but Cygnus ignored him.

"Yes," Cygnus nodded. "Then you have to sit down. Anyone who is sitting down in the maze is out, so others know not to hit them. You can't sit down if you're not out. The costumes don't let you."

"Okay," Hermione said, rather hyped up. Other than the truth and dare game she had played, she had never really done a group activity before. This was rather exciting, despite the fact that her team didn't seem to like her much. "What's the plan?"

"Don't bother yourself with it," Flint said sweetly, apparently forgetting that the team captain was actually Cygnus. "You won't need to learn it."

True to his words, Flint made an elaborate plan that included everyone but Hermione. Cygnus shot her an apologetic look, but Hermione waved him off. If they didn't want her, then fine. She'll just go solo. She'll just get more hits than Flint did. That's all. Who cares if he was a Quidditch player? Her aim would be ten times better.

Five minutes later, Hermione found herself standing alone in the maze as the loud bell rang. They had all split up, and Cygnus reluctantly left Hermione. She had to reassure him that she would be fine before he would leave. Hermione sighed and tossed the balloon up in the air. She had to be careful; if she accidently dropped it and the paint spilled on her costume, then she would be forced to sit down as well. The detectors didn't care which balloon it was from. It only detected paint.

Hermione hummed quietly to herself, and immediately regretted it. She heard footsteps running towards her, and was instantly on alert. What kind of stupid plan was this, having every man for themselves? It was better to go in groups. Flint was an idiot.

Oh well. Group or not, she was still Grindelwald's daughter, and he would have nothing but perfection. As Abraxas rounded the corner with Eleanor, Hermione chucked balloons as fast as she could at them. Her pockets immediately refilled them for her. They had been charmed by Tom, who had told her smugly that he had once again beaten her in charms.

They both dodged and fired away, and Hermione let her reflexes kick in. She decided to show off a bit and kicked off the wall, flying around and looking like a monkey. Abraxas hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but that was enough. Blue paint squirted all over his belly and he sat down. With only Eleanor left, it was too easy. Some well-timed jumps to confuse her and Hermione nailed her in the arm.

Two large bangs sounded as Eleanor sat down, and Hermione was strangely reminded of the Hunger Games. She grinned as Eleanor scowled at her, while Abraxas just sighed, as though it was expected.

"Why are you wandering by yourself?" Abraxas asked. "Isn't it strategically to go in groups?"

"That's what I said," Hermione rolled her eyes. "But they were set on using me as bait, so of course they wouldn't listen to anything I had to say."

Abraxas laughed. "Using _you_ as bait? That probably would've been a good strategy. You would've taken everyone out before they even saw you." Hermione scowled at him, and he waved her off. "Go and be the hero. We'll still be here when you get back."

Another bang echoed in the background, but this time it sounded different. Someone from her team must have gotten out. Hermione nodded and waved. "Have fun together," she said to Eleanor, who seemed to brighten up considerably as she considered the position she and Abraxas were in. Hermione didn't wait to find out what the girl did. She sprint around the corner and didn't stop until she found a little dark corner to stand in.

She was planning to stay there for the remainder of the game, but there was no such luck.

"If it isn't the filthy halfbreed," Avery jeered. At least he wasn't calling her a muggleborn anymore. Someone seemed to have knocked some sense in to his brain. "What are you doing here, all by yourself?"

Nott and him formed a human barrier, preventing her from leaving her little corner. She wasn't planning on leaving, anyway, but she hadn't wanted company. Only Lestrange hung back, eyeing Avery uncertainly. "Just hit her," he said cautiously. "Don't badmouth her, or she'll run off and tell To…." Lestrange trailed off.

"I'll just make sure she can't talk again," Avery grinned gleefully, taking a step forward. Nott was eager to follow. For someone who had never met her, Nott was sure eager to help ambush her.

"Run off and tell Tom?" Hermione asked, confused. Avery froze, before narrowing his eyes at her. "I won't run off and tell Tom. What do you think he is, my guardian? He has better things to do with his time," Hermione rolled her eyes. _Yeah, like torture me with his questions._

"You wish you were worthy enough for him to be your guardian," Avery hissed. "You'll have to pay for what you did to me last time," He was absentmindedly stroking her left hand, and Hermione saw a dark bruise.

"I did not run off and tell Tom," Hermione said, but none of them seemed to believe her. Did Tom punish Avery just because he was stupid enough to drench her in water? And how had Tom known? Did someone tell him?

"Avery," Lestrange said sharply. "Just get her out."

"You ruin all the fun, Lestrange," Avery said, still keeping his eyes on Hermione's.

"Do you want a repeat of what happened last time?"

Whatever happened last time must've been pretty bad, as Avery gripped the balloon so tightly Hermione thought it would pop. His hands were shaking, and he glared at her, like it was her fault. And maybe it was.

"You're lucky that we're here right now, filthy halfbreed," Avery said, raising his balloons. Creativtiy was clearly not one of his strong points. "You better be careful when you go outside for the school sbreaks. I will hunt you down, and I will inflict all the pain you have caused me to felt."

If he was trying to be intimidating, it was not working. Though, she would have to talk to Tom about it later. The boy hadn't harmed her, so why should Tom harm Avery? Hermione sighed, and simply tossed a balloon at the front of Avery's shirt. He had not been expecting it, and it hit him clear in the chest. Two more balloons were tossed, and the three Slytherin boys sat down, clearly not happy. Three bangs sounded, followed by another two from her team. They were winning 5-3, but Hermione knew the game was just beginning.

Hermione left the three yelling boys. Avery had suddenly lost all his bravado and begged her not to go tell Tom. She had ignored him and just left. She didn't report to Tom with everything that happened. What did he think she was?

Hermione hiked to an empty area and crouched down, yawning loudly. The bangs were more frequent now, coming from both sides. She had lost count hours ago, and could only hope that there would be some sort of signal if she was the last person standing. But then, she didn't expect to be the last person standing. She couldn't imagine Tom getting hit.

He seemed to have some sort of telepathy link with her, because Hermione whirled around and there he was, tossing a balloon in the air nonchalantly. Without warning, he flicked it at her, and she dodged to the right, and then the fight began. It was almost as exhilarating as the fight in Diagon Alley, or their little duel in DADA. Balloons flew in all directions as paint colored the walls. Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out a pattern which he moved in. She found none. He seemed to be not able to find hers either, and kept throwing balloons at an increasing rate.

At the end, the two of them seemed to come to an agreement and stopped dodging, focusing all their energy at chucking balloons. By the time it was all over, they were both covered head to toe. Hermione giggled as a green spot was splattered near his eye, and he was blinking rapidly, trying to get it out of his eye.

"Here," Hermione leaned over and used a spare tissue to wipe it for him. He was watching her carefully. In the background, the large cannon echoed. "Is that better?"

"Yes," Tom said quietly, observing her. "I have to say, you look quite flattering yourself." He pointed to her cheek, where purple and red spots dotted her skin. "Want to call it a draw?"

"Of course not," Hermione scowled at him. "I won, obviously. Why should you get some of my credit?"

Tom laughed. "I was being nice and offering you a chance to take at least half the victory," he said. "Because everyone knows that I obviously beat you."

"Nice and you shouldn't ever appear in the same sentence," Hermione told him.

Tom smirked, looking at her. "You think you know me so well, don't you?" He murmured, and Hermione felt herself lean in instinctively. Tom sighed, and then said quietly, to himself, "And I suppose you do."

"Tom?" Hermione questioned. "Why is your boggart me?"

Tom's lips quirked up. "I knew you would ask me. Truth is, I have no idea," he shrugged. "Maybe I'm afraid of your hair. It looks like a beehive."

Hermione swatted at him.

"Why is your boggart Grindelwald?"

Hermione looked at him. "I told you already."

"Hm," Tom tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Why do I get the impression that you're lying?"

"I don't know," Hermione told him sweetly. "False alarm."

He scowled, and she giggled. "Next question," she said, more softly. "Did you mean what you said? About…the kiss, being a mistake?"

Tom smirked. "I didn't peg you to be the type who would lose sleep over this. Are you finally admitting that you are in love with me?"

"I am not in love with you," Hermione said hotly. "I was just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"I'm not a cat."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Fine. I did mean it, at that time," his eyes scanned her face, and then they locked in to hers. Grey met brown, as the two of them stared at each other. "But now, no. In fact," he raised his hand and placed it on her cheek. "I would do it again."

Hermione laughed shakily, pressing her face against his hand. "This sort of tactic doesn't work on me, Tom,"

"Doesn't it?" Tom asked lightly. "I think you're beautiful,"

Hermione snorted. Now _that_ was crossing over the borderline of cheesiness. "And I think you're a liar."

Tom scowled at her. "Fine. I think you're ugly as hell. Better?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Complimenting me won't make me like you enough to let you beat me in class, by the way. I'll still be number one."

"As if I need to do something like that," Tom scoffed. He paused, before saying, "Then, does complimenting you earn me another kiss?"

"It depends," Hermione said, as he carefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "on the quality of the kiss, of course."

Tom's lips quirked up. "You doubt my skills?"

Hermione shrugged. "I can't judge short kisses. They don't give my mind time to process it,"

Tom grinned wickedly. "Then I'll have to give you one you remember, don't I?"

Without waiting for her to respond, he closed the gap between them. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, as he drew her in. His arms were around her waist and his body was pressed against hers. His mouth was doing wonders to hers as they fought for dominance, even while kissing. Tom eventually won, and laid her down on the ground without breaking the kiss, and half leaned over her. She ran her hand through his hair, and it was as soft as she had imagined. It slipped easily between her fingers, as soft as silk.

That was how Abraxas and the rest of the crew found them minutes later. The game had ended, but neither of them had noticed. All Hermione cared about was the pair of soft lips that was pressing against hers, the warm body on top of her. Her grip on his neck was so tight. She wasn't going to let go anytime soon.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>And Tom and Hermione marry and live happily ever after. Just kidding. The story doesn't end this quick. Actually, I don't think this is even the halfway point yet, so if you're not a major fan of long stories, sorry. If you like long stories, then good. You'll be seeing a lot more of me, which, I suppose, can be both good and bad.

Are they OOC? I feel like they're OOC. I actually have no idea whatsoever on how to write romance, though I am trying. So you'll just have to deal with my crappy attempts for a while.

In case you were wondering, I got the unicorn picture from a picture I saw on google. If you're curious, you can just type "voldemort you are what you eat unicorn" or something along those lines in to google, and you should come up with a very interesting Voldemort. ;)


	16. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **As you can all see, my last chapter was rather a mess. See, this is what happens when I rush. Well, this is what happens when I pick up a pen and write in general, but it happens more when I rush. I will go and fix it when I have a chance to.

Morpheusandmuse-I thought I explained it clearly, but when I went back to read it, it turns out I didn't mention it at all. Tom claims Hermione as a possession because if she's a possession, he would have no need to fear her. That's why he went all "caveman" on her, as you said. (Yes, as you've noticed, I kind of left that whole part out. I'll go fix it when I have time.) Thanks for pointing that out to me, though.

Thanks for reviewing! You guys are the best.

loves2readalways, TheGirlonFire52, Vanilla Sensation, TheEscapeFromReality, morpheusandmuse, Silas Serenity, asianstotheleft, Zombie Reine, Alassea Riddle, Weird-Chik2, AkiProductions, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Angellwriter, voldyismyfather, julesrose, UniCryin, Red Sphinx, Chanel, anon, Lil, Esyaba, harmonious

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><p>"You were totally making out with him,"<p>

"_Abraxas_," Hermione hissed, as Slughorn moved over curiously. The teacher clearly heard what Abraxas said and shot Hermione a knowing look. When Slughorn turned around to converse with another student, Hermione made a disgusted face. She would rather die before she started getting dating advices from her potion teacher. This proved to be easily said than done, as Slughorn seemed to go out of his way to make sure that he stuck her nose in her business.

She had felt quite bold during their kiss, but that confidence had vanished quite quickly after she and Tom broke contact. The loss of Tom's body heat made reality crash down on her. She suddenly realized what she was doing, and how the entire Slytherin house seemed to be watching her. Some were astonished, while others were furious. Black wolf-whistled, but Hermione could guess that he was one of the few people who actually supported her. Others, such as Tracey's, weren't quite as nice. Judging by the look on Tracey's face, she would have a very pleasant year from now on.

"What?" Abraxas asked. "I'm telling it how I saw it. You had your mouth on his when I walked in on the two of you." Hermione glared at him. "Look, I'm not angry…well, maybe just a tad, but Tom's not-"

"Who he seems to be, I know," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You've told me this millions of times. If you want to act brotherly, you don't need to do this, you know." She softened her voice slightly. "I know who Tom is. I can look after myself."

"Who says I want to act brotherly?" Abraxas asked, surprised.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Nick told me that." Nick had also added that the brotherly role was _his_ part, and if Abraxas dared to snatch it from him, he wouldn't hesitate to curse him. Hermione saw it fit to leave that part out.

"You talk to _Porter_ about me?"

"Why not? I tell Nick everything important. You're important, aren't you?" Abraxas didn't move. Hermione sighed. "It wasn't that bad. He didn't insult you, if that's what you're worried about. Fine, I won't ever bring you up. Happy?"

Abraxas sighed and looked away. "No, I'm happy that you are talking about me, though…all good things, I hope?" Hermione grinned mischievously at him. "I just don't like Porter. He's…weird."

"Everyone's weird. What makes him weirder than the rest?" Hermione eyed him. "And don't call him Porter. That sounds weird." _Because that's not his real last name._

"I'm not going to call him Nick," Abraxas scowled. "We're not friends. And he's weird because," Abraxas shrugged. "He has blue hair. That's not normal."

_He didn't really have a choice at that. _"You have blue eyes. What's the difference?"

Before Abraxas could reply, Black dropped down in the seat in front of them, shooting Hermione a grin. "Hey Abraxas. Hey Squirtle. Nice lip-sucking skills with-"

"Shut up."

"You know, it's not proper for a lady to publicly display affection," Black said, ignoring her. "Besides, don't you think he's too old for you? Really. He has nine whole months more of experience than you do. Find someone your own age, Squirtle."

"How do you know when my birthday is?" Hermione snapped at him, as Tracey and Walburga came in, most definitely hearing Black's comment. They glared at her, though Walburga was more for the paintball game than her 'public display of affection,' as Black put it. "And Tom's birthday is in December?"

"I told him, actually," someone said smoothly from behind her. Based on Tracey's expression, Hermione knew exactly who it was without even turning around. It also happened to be the person she least wanted to see. "And December 31st, to be precise."

"I wasn't interested," she growled at him, and he sat down, raising his eyebrows at her flippant tone. His fake smile was plastered on his face. "And why do you know when my birthday is?"

"Secrets, Hermione," Tom said, before turning to the girl next to him and saying pleasantly, "Hello, Tracey,"

"_Tom_," she threw a glare at Hermione, before turning back towards Tom and batting her eyebrows. Hermione determinedly looked away. She had never had this situation before. She had never kissed someone _twice…_make that three times, and stayed afterwards. Not to mention, she had not ever cared about any of her partners before.

_Did she care about Tom? _She probably did. Just how much was the question. And it was a really _really_ important question that she needed to know the answer to.

However, she read in a book that she should make Tom's life as hard as possible. The book said that if she ignored him and went on with her life, he would eventually come groveling later. The book also said that she should talk with other boys, and the book promised a positive outcome.

She liked the image of Tom groveling.

Therefore, she vowed to ignore him. However, that was easier said than done. Tom Riddle could be quite persistent at times. The talk with other boys part was easier, so talk to Abraxas and Black she shall.

Tracey was trailing her fingers down Tom's arms, as if to make a show out of it. To make matters even worse for Hermione, Tom was still smiling his ridiculously fake smile, and Hermione found it harder and harder to ignore him. She felt the sudden urge to get up and choke both of them. Scowling, she turned to Abraxas and said, "Let's talk."

Abraxas looked startled, and then his gaze slid suspiciously to Tom and then back to her. He traded glances with Black, who was enjoying the situation way too much for her taste. "Okay," Abraxas said slowly. "What exactly do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, just as Tracey started squabbling about makeup. Hermione snuck a glance at Tom. She always knew he was a good actor, but he was acting like he truly _cared_ about Tracey and her makeup. Hermione always prided herself with being able to keep her cool—except Tom managed to make her angry more times than she could count—but if Tracey started talking about makeup to _her_, she wouldn't hesitate and huddle in a corner and cry.

There was a reason they weren't best friends.

Abraxas seemed to sense her dilemma, even if she didn't know what it was. Why was ignoring Tom so hard? He cast her an understanding look, which informed Hermione that there was indeed something wrong with her. "Are you going anywhere for Christmas break?" he asked. "You could come over."

"I would love to," Hermione said, trying to speak as loud as possible so that Tom could hear. It didn't work. Tom just kept smiling at Tracey, and Black snorted when he saw her gaze wander to Tom. "But I don't think your family will be too family to see me."

"My family?" Abraxas looked genuinely surprised. "Why wouldn't they be happy to see you?"

"Is he usually this ignorant?" Hermione asked Black, who snickered. Abraxas looked confused. "Abraxas, in case you didn't notice, your family kind of hates me."

"Hate you?" Abraxas asked, blinking. "Why would they hate you?"

"Uh, Gabriel? Your parents? Cruciatus? Ring any bells?" Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"Since when did the Cruciatus affect you?"

"You're missing my point." Hermione sighed.

"What _is_ your point, then?" Abraxas pressed.

Hermione shot a glance at Black, who just shrugged. "Can't help it," he grinned cheekily. "He's always been rather stupid." He barely dodged Abraxas's hand. "Look what you've done. You've turned him in to a violent person."

Hermione scowled at him, and Black laughed. "I would invite you over, Squirtle, but I doubt you want to spend two months in the same building as Wallie." Walburga, hearing her nickname, shot her cousin a glare, but Black waved her off. "Not to mention, it's not really my place to invite you over," Here, he looked rather uncomfortable. "Wallie's parents are…let's just say they make Abraxas's family look like an angel."

"Gabriel is an angel," Abraxas said absentmindedly to himself.

"So you're saying they were prejudice." Hermione said slowly. Her eyes locked with Black's. "What about you, then?"

"Me?" An apologetic look crossed his face. "Sorry, but it seems like it runs in the family."

She herself had never been prejudice. Her father, maybe, but for her, targets were targets. She didn't care about the blood status, so long as she got the job done. "Then what about me, then? I'm not pureblood." She raised her eyes to meet his, challenging his. "Are you going to drop me one day?"

"_You_?" Black asked, his eyes wide with shock. "Why would I do that?" He paused as the realization hit him, and looked away sheepishly. It must've been the first time Hermione had ever seen him embarrassed, other than the time they talked about Violetta together. "You're different."

"Am I?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"You got Abraxas to like you, didn't you?" Black replied, grinning at his friend. Abraxas rolled his eyes. "That's quite a feat. Abraxas doesn't like people often. You should feel honored."

"How's Eleanor?"

Black chuckled as Abraxas paled slightly, staring at Hermione as if she had grown two heads. "What about her?" Hermione noticed that his words were rather forced. She also noticed that his cheeks were taking in a bit of color.

She smiled sweetly at him. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

Black shot his friend a suggestive grin, and Abraxas seemed to want to shrink back in his chair and disappear. He was clearly not pleased with this sudden spotlight. "No. There's nothing." Then, he added quietly to himself, "Martin would kill me."

"Why would my brother kill you?" A voice behind them asked, causing Abraxas to jump five feet in the air. Eleanor sat herself down gracefully in to the chair next to Black, who winked and slung his arm playfully over her shoulder.

"Hey El," Black grinned. He seemed to have a nickname for just about everyone. Eleanor gave him a small smile. "How was the paintball game?"

"Perfect," Eleanor looked at Hermione. "You got nice aim."

Hermione blinked. The girl had hardly spoken to her before, much less been nice to her. But her previous statement sounded like a compliment to her. "Thanks."

"Abraxas can back me up," Eleanor looked him, and Hermione didn't miss the little smile the two of them shared. "She was jumping off walls and dodging like a ninja. You ever think about joining the Quidditch team? We could use people like you."

Hermione laughed. "No, you should see me fly. I crash in to everything." And then, against her better judgment, she added under her breath, "Plus, I need to keep up with my studies." Black and Abraxas both heard her, and smirked.

Eleanor, apparently, didn't hear or chose to ignore it. "We can work with that," she said. "Nobody's perfect. We can get you up and flying in no time. There's a reason we won the Quidditch team last year. We're all great teachers."

"I'm afraid of heights." She wondered if it was wise to toss around her weakness like that, but she highly doubted that it was her biggest problem. If someone dropped her from the empire state buildings, there would be other things she had to worry about.

"Ah. Can't do anything about that," Eleanor glanced at her. "So, what's up with you and Tom? I didn't see it coming."

Hermione turned and glared at the back of Tom's head. He was still in a deep conversation with Tracey, who had saw fit to place herself in his lap. And him, being ever the womanizer, did nothing to stop her. Hermione clenched her fist angrily, and then calmed herself down before she turned back around. "No one did."

"How long do you think you'll last?"

"Eleanor!" Abraxas said, narrowing his eyes. Eleanor simply shrugged, though her eyes informed Hermione that the girl was still quite curious. Black seemed to be leaning forward too much for just a mild curiosity.

"I don't know," She looked back at Tom, who was now massaging Tracey's arms gently with his. "I think Tom will answer that question better than I can."

Fortunately for Tom, he is saved from Eleanor's immense curiosity when Slughorn went to the front of the room, humming cheerfully. Tracey is forced to return to her seat, and Slughorn shot Tom a suspicious glance. It didn't take brains to know that some of the rumors regarding Tom and her had made its way to Slughorn's ears, and Tom was going to get a lecture from the potion professor that cheating on Hermione was not the right way to go.

_Though not all of them are rumors._

Halfway through Slughorn's lecture, she felt a hand gently push itself in to hers. She frowned. She had never pegged Tom for the romantic type of guy who would take a girl to a nice diner and hold her hand while they were eating. She removed his hand, only to find it came back a few seconds later. When she looked at him, he was still taking notes, giving Slughorn his full attention. She did, however, spot a small smirk appear on his face. She ignored him and went back to taking notes.

The next time she felt his hand, she pinched him. He flinched slightly, but was either extremely stupid or just ignored the pain as his hand came again. This time, she grabbed it roughly and slammed it against the desk.

She underestimated her strength. Tom noticeably winced, and the sound echoed in the room, drawing everyone's eyes over to her. Slughorn had stopped talking and was looking worriedly at his star student, who was examining his hand carefully. Tracey stood up, but a loud throat clearing from Slughorn forced her to sit back down, grumbling in the process.

"Oh no," Tom said, drawing all the attention to himself. He was staring at an imaginary mark on his hand. "I think I may die of blood loss."

Hermione almost snorted. He was hardly harmed, and there was definitely no blood present. However, Slughorn said immediately, "Please go to the infirmary, Tom. I would hate to see you hurt." The rest of the class bobbled their heads in agreement.

"Thank you, Professor," Tom nodded his head politely and stood up. Hermione stared at him, rather bewildered. What was he going to do, show Pomfrey his perfectly fine hand? Or was he actually _ditching _class? He then turned and looked at her ruefully. "May Hermione accompany me?"

Tracey actually growled, but Slughorn didn't notice. "Of course. Wouldn't want you to faint on the way, m'boy. Miss Granger," Slughorn looked expectantly at her. Of course she couldn't argue; he was determining her grades, after all. Grumbling slightly and ignoring all the curious glances and one furious glare coming from Tracey, she followed Tom out of the potions classroom, eyeing him suspiciously. He gave her no response other than his usual smirk.

They walked along together quietly at first, though it was quite obvious that they were not going to the infirmary. It was the opposite direction, after all. And he didn't seem keen on telling her where they were going either.

"Tom Riddle, ditching class?" She mocked. He didn't turn around, but she knew he heard her. "That just taints your perfect reputation, doesn't it?"

"I was under the impression that you weren't talking to me."

"Well, _I_ was under the impression that we were okay with each other," Hermione said crossly. "Fat load of good that did me."

He sounded amused, though he never did turn his head once to look at her. "Jealous?"

"Hardly," Hermione scorned, but mentally slapped herself for sounding just like Tracey. She should _never_ be jealous. Being jealous would officially put Tom on top of her. "Why would I want a bimbo attached to my lap? I feel quite bad for you, actually."

Tom suddenly stopped and turned around, his eyes blazing. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" Hermione asked angrily. "Like you have the right to talk. I didn't even make a dent on your perfect skin, and you claim you're bleeding to death?" She shook her head. "Slughorn is stupider than I thought."

Tom smirked, but turned back around and continued walking. "Careful, Hermione." He mimicked her. "What if a teacher heard you? That just taints your perfect reputation, doesn't it?"

"My reputation is far from perfect," it was out her mouth before she had a chance to process what she was saying. "I wouldn't be surprised if I was known as the girl who was snogging you."

_Idiot. Why did I bring it up?_

He determinedly ignored her. Hermione sighed. Fine, he wanted to play it that way. Why did she care? He was just a boy. Her life wasn't going to end with a small rejection. He rejected her the first time, and she had dealt with it, hadn't she?

"Alright then," she said slowly, stopping. He stopped as well, but didn't turn back around. She didn't even recognize where they were anymore. Where had he been trying to take her, anyway? Did he want to dump her in the most secret place in the castle? "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll just go back to potions. Wouldn't want to disturb you and your…er...bleeding." She started walking the way that they had came.

She barely made it five steps.

He had her pinned against the wall, not quite touching her but not giving her room to escape either. They seemed to find themselves in this position quite a lot. Hermione looked around, but there was no one to come to her aid. "Let me go, Tom."

"Not until you tell me what this is about."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or slap him for being so stupid. "You kissed me."

"Yes."

"Abraxas and the others saw."

"Yes."

"So? You're okay with this? Or are you just going to pull Tracey in to your lap again when you get her alone? Just so I have a heads up."

Tom narrowed her eyes. "Like you weren't doing the exact same thing to Abraxas."

Hermione's jaw dropped open. "I was _not_!"

Tom said nothing, but the accusation was written on his face. She had never pegged him to be one with jealousy fits like this, but then again, she had never thought she would've kissed him either. It seemed like the two of them were more unpredictable than she had thought.

"Tom," Hermione said, rather irritated now. He was still leaning over her. Did he realize that she could be spending the time doing more productive things, like studying? Or maybe this was his ploy to get her away from Ancient Runes so he could beat her again. "I was not sitting in Abraxas's lap. Let me go."

"Shut up."

He was clearly deep in thought, though Hermione raised her hands to shove him off of her. He threw them at the wall, and Hermione grimaced, sure that _she_ was the one bleeding now, not him. Then, he seemed to make up his mind and kissed her hard.

Hermione tried to shove him off of her. If he thought he could get away with explaining everything with a kiss, he was terribly mistaken. However, he didn't budge, and the feeling of his lips were nice, so Hermione surrounded herself to it. She registered in the back of her mind that if a teacher were to come by, they would get in serious trouble. However, she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. It was just Tom.

Of course, when he ended it, she smacked him as gently in the face as she could and stalked off. However, she felt a small grin appear on her face.

_Father would be so disappointed._

At that moment, Hermione didn't care.

ஐ

Snow came early that year. There was no hidden meaning in it. The snow just started falling in November rather than December, which delighted many of the students who had never seen snow before.

Hogwarts was set in to the holiday mood. Snow hung from the ceilings, and Slughorn could even be seen walking around in his Santa Clause costume, handing out little candies to everyone. The other teachers didn't try quite as hard, but the festive atmosphere was clearly in every class she went to.

Snow meant good. Snow meant curling up in a ball in the library and studying. Hermione's brain often processed things better when it was cold. Eileen sometimes joined her, and despite the overwhelming evidence that pointed her to being the spy, Hermione couldn't 100% believe her to be the spy anymore. She was _still _suspicious, just not completely sure any more. However, Nick was furious with her when she told him, refusing to talk to her for a week.

When he finally did, it was because Eileen invited him to go shopping. When he refused, she relentlessly asked until one day he was out of excuses. Hermione had stepped in, saying that they had a project to finish together. Eileen grudgingly bought it, and Nick felt indebt to Hermione for finally chasing her away.

_Though if it weren't for you, she wouldn't even be chasing after me in the first place_, Nick reminded her.

Unfortunately, her excuse meant that she had to spend her precious afternoon in the Gryffindor common room. She was only going to talk to Nick for a couple minutes, but ended up getting roped down by Ron and Seamus to stay.

"Bloody hell, are you famous?" Ron asked, eyes wide as he eyed the other occupants of the Gryffindor common room. He, Seamus, Nick and her were sitting near the fire place. Lily and her friends were squabbling nearby, and Nick grimaced every time one of them laughed shrilly. They did seem to be shooting her occasional glances.

"No, Ron," Hermione sighed, scribbling something down on her parchment. "It's called house hostility. Have you noticed that none of the looks I've been receiving are particularly pleasant?"

Ron shrugged, but didn't say anything. Hermione recognized the two girls from the Quidditch game sitting on the couch near the door. They were shooting her murderous glares, and Hermione looked away, sighing. She had known what would happen if she got involved with Tom, but seeing these girls hate her just because of that made her want to slap all of them.

Seamus obviously noticed her distress, as he closed his book and stood up, trying to make her stand as well. She didn't budge. "You sound depressed, 'Mione," he said, deciding to address her by a nickname he had made for her. "Let's go outside."

"Outside?" Ron looked at his friend, startled. "Why would we go outside?"

"It's snowing," Seamus remarked cheerfully. "Might as well enjoy it and have a snowball fight." Without waiting for their consent, he announced loudly, "Gryffindor snowball fight outside!"

Nick sighed and started packing up. "We don't have a choice, do we?" He eyed as the rest of the people in the Gryffindor common room file outside. Lily seemed to be bouncing towards him. Nick had explained to Hermione that Lily had officially stopped trying to use him to make someone else jealous, and now regarded Nick as a friend. Hermione knew Nick well enough that he wasn't interested in making friends. Like her, he always thought that having a friend meant having someone else to watch during battle. It was the golden rule of all spies.

Of course, she went and broke that rule.

She found herself outside later, the field dominated by Gryffindor students. They had broken up in to small groups and launched their own games. Hermione raised her eyes at Seamus. "Four people to a snowball fight? Sounds dreadfully boring."

"They'll be more people joining," Seamus said, and then eyed Nick. "I call being on a team with Nick."

Hermione knew it was unfair if she and Nick were on a team together, but she was kind of hoping that was the case. She hadn't fought with Nick in a long time, and while this hardly counted as a fight, they could cover for each other well.

They practiced, of course. She and Nick had borrowed an abandoned classroom, and just fought for the old time's sake. They had used wands and they had just used their bodies and other muggle weapons, and Hermione felt the memories flood back in to her. She always enjoyed the time when she fought with Nick, but they had also never had the opportunity to fight together. They needed four people for that, and she wasn't keen in inviting other people to their fights.

Ron didn't seem to be bothered by the arrangement, because he just shrugged and handed Hermione a snowball. Hermione poked at it, and was disappointed to see it cave in completely. The snow was not good for snowball fights. Paintballing would've been a much better idea.

The game started off rather slowly. After all, how much can four people do? Ron didn't seem to be enjoying himself too much, so Hermione had to watch herself _and_ make sure he was doing alright. Thanks to him, she got pelted in the head by a smug Nick more times than she could count. It wasn't until more people joined and the game got more heated that Ron decided to disappear.

She was about to go look for him when Nick hurled a snowball at her that hit her square in the head. She glared at him, but he grinned cheekily and launched another one. This time, she ducked behind a pile of snow and almost crashed in to Ron.

_Guess that saves me the trouble of having to find him. _

"Ron!" She exclaimed, looking at him. He was building tiny little snowmen. Eight of them, to be precise. They all had a clump of red-orange yarn on top of their heads. "What are you doing?"

"Building snowmen," Ron said, as if that wasn't completely obvious. Snowballs flew over their heads, but neither of them paid it any notice. "This is my whole family."

Hermione nodded. She had seen a couple of redheads around the school every so often, but it looked like a lot of them were related to Ron.

"That's Mum and Dad." Ron said, pointing to the two snowmen on the far left. "Mum's okay. She's rather annoying at times though. Dad loves muggle artifacts. He's still trying to understand how a telephone works."

Hermione thought of her mother, and had to fight the urge to cry. Ron and her couldn't be more different; if only her father was as harmless as his, immersed in muggle items all day long.

"That's Bill." Ron said. "He's the oldest. Next to him is Percy the prat." He didn't elaborate, and Hermione didn't ask. "Those two are Fred and George. You've probably seen them around. They're pranksters."

She had, in fact. She distinctively remembered them from the Quidditch game where she had gotten hit with the bludger, but that wasn't the last time she saw them. It was kind of hard to miss when they had turned Dumbledore's beard rainbow colored at dinner one day. Everyone was laughing, but it was kind of obvious from the way they held themselves that they were responsible.

She had also noticed that Harry's lookalike hadn't seemed too pleased about that.

"And that's me." Ron pointed to himself, and then said in a more quiet voice, "And that's Ginny."

"You look alike," Hermione said, and then mentally slapped herself. Of course they looked alike; they were _snowmen_. How different could you make them with just snow and red yarn? Ron didn't seem to notice, and went on working on another snowman.

Ron caught her looking. "That's the friend I told you about," he said quietly. "The person Ginny was dating. The last person to see her alive."

"You told me," Hermione said.

Ron nodded. "He was my best friend."

"I know."

"He still _is_ my best friend," Ron paused. "Though I feel like I'm betraying Ginny by thinking that." This conversation started sounding like the conversation she and Black had shared that night at the Halloween dance.

Hermione sighed. "You shouldn't blame him. When one sees a wizard as powerful as Grindelwald, a person's brain tends to shut down." _Believe me, I've had my share of brain-dead moments. _"I wouldn't hate him too much. What would you have done?"

"I would've saved Ginny," Ron said bluntly.

"It's not that easy," Hermione reminded him. If it were, she would've saved herself and countless other victims a long time ago. "If he stayed, he might not have gotten away."

Ron let out a frustrated sounded. "I still don't know _how_ he got away."

Hermione frowned. She had been wondering about that too. Her father was slipping slightly, she knew that. He _had_ overlooked Cygnus when he had taken Violetta, after all, but Cygnus was far away. From what she could tell, Ron's friend had been right in front of her father. How on earth did he manage to get away?

"Is it bad?" Ron asked. "Is it bad that sometimes I wish he hadn't gotten away, just so he can prove to me that Ginny was worth dying for for him?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "But it's also selfish for you to wish that your friend had died too."

"You're right." Ron said, looking downwards. "That _was_ selfish."

"Ron?" She asked quietly, wincing slightly as Ron finished building his final snowman only to proceed to smash it with his palm. The cut his best friend had left was so deep, it didn't look like it would ever heal. "Who was this friend of yours?"

Ron blinked, and then said, "His name is—"

"Squirtle!" Hermione groaned as Black's cheerful face appeared above their little snow pile that the two of them were hiding behind. "Making out in the snow. Can't say that sounds particularly comfortable…" he trailed off, and then narrowed his eyes at Ron. "You're not Tom."

"No, I'm not." The emotional moment that Ron had passed away, and he regarded Black with hatred in his eyes. Hermione rolled her eyes. Stupid house rivalry was going to be the death of this school. "What are _you_ doing here, Black?"

"It's none of your business," Hermione couldn't help but be reminded of two kindergarteners bickering. "But if you must know, I was going to save Squirtle's terrible team by joining it. It has nothing to do with _you_."

Ron looked like her wanted to point out that since he was on Hermione's team, it was technically his business, but he just rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He brushed himself off and stomped away.

Hermione frowned at Black, who was watching Ron join Nick with a glint in his eyes. "That wasn't very nice."

"No one in Slytherin is nice, Squirtle." He looked down at the snowmen in front of her. "Is that what you like to do with your time? Build snowmen with gingers?"

Hermione ignored his latter comment. "_I'm_ nice."

Black snorted, but before he had a chance to retort, Tom's face appeared next to his. She had to admit she liked it when it was slightly red. It made him look slightly less…evil. He grinned at her, and she returned the smile.

"Hey, what are you doing down there, sitting by yourself?" He noticed the snowmen and made a face. "My snowmen are better."

"Do you have to turn everything in to a competition?" Hermione growled at him, still sore at the memory that every time they _had_ competed, she would always tie at best. It was frustrating. She didn't spend so many years to work on getting the top spot just to be kicked down by Tom. "And Ron made these. Not me."

"In that case," Tom took out his wand and flicked it casually. Instantly, they were all flattened in to pancakes. "That's much better."

Hermione glared at him. "Ron spent a long time on those." She said, but he didn't seem to care. "That was rude."

"If Weasley needs to spend a long time to make snowmen like _that_, he is clearly in the wrong year," Tom said simply. "And if he didn't want me to destroy them, he shouldn't have left them here." He caught Hermione's murderous look and chuckled, offering her a hand. She glared at it and stood up herself.

"Where are the others?" Hermione asked, glancing around. By now, the field was filled with students. While she saw a couple of house unity situations, most of the houses decided to steer clear of the others. She also saw how many of the girls were trying to get up the nerve to ask Tom to play with them. Tom paid them no attention.

"Cygnus and Violetta are in the library with Eileen." Hermione frowned. Cygnus and Violetta were not known for being in the library. She was going to have to ask them about it later. Tom turned to Black. "I couldn't find him either."

Black swore loudly, and Hermione looked at him. "Who?" She demanded. "Who can't you find?"

"Abraxas," Black said, gritting his teeth. Hermione felt herself go cold, and she was pretty sure it wasn't because of the weather. "I haven't seen him since breakfast, ever since he ran away after telling me there was something important that he needed to investigate."

"Eleanor." Hermione said. "What about her? The two of them could be together."

Black shook his head. "No, El's over there," He pointed to where Eleanor was firing snowballs at Avery and Lestrange, both with scowls on their faces. "She's been waiting forever to do that. I bet she's forgotten that Abraxas even exists." It did seem to be the case. Eleanor had a wild expression on her face that Hermione had never seen her wear before.

Hermione frowned. She hadn't seen Abraxas either, but she had rushed over to talk with Nick right after breakfast. She hadn't seen anyone else, to be honest. Abraxas had seemed fine before then. Either he had turned in to an extremely good actor, or she was getting worse at reading people.

A scream met her ears.

Everyone dropped their snowballs hastily and looked over at the girl running on to the field. It was the girl from the Quidditch game, the girl with the purple streak in her hair. She was crying, which was ruining her makeup, but Hermione doubted that the girl cared at the moment. She collapsed in to the snow. She was wearing no gloves, so her hands must've been freezing. She looked rather blue as well.

Dumbledore, whom Hermione didn't even notice was outside, sank down next to the crying girl. The other teachers, Slughorn and some others she didn't recognize, also made their way over. The students crowded around her as Dumbledore put a reassuring hand on her back. No one said anything as Dumbledore tried to quite her down.

"Miss Belby, please calm down," Dumbledore said, though the girl kept crying harder. Hermione suddenly noticed that the girl was coughing as well, though it sounded weird. She looked around, but it seemed like no one else noticed it. "What happened?"

"They got her!" The girl, Erica Belby, shrieked. She seemed to be hysterical. Hermione narrowed her eyes and leaned in, making sure to catch every word that the girl said. "_They. Got. Her._" She sobbed pitifully. "Make them give her back."

"Who?" This was from Slughorn, whose brow was furrowed. "Who is this, and what happened to her?"

"Daisy!" Hermione recognized the name as the Asian girl who was always together with Erica. Hermione glanced at Erica suspiciously. She had just seen the two of them in the common room before they had come outside for a snowball fight. The two of them had been perfectly fine, glaring holes in to Hermione's head.

"What happened to Miss Chang?" Dumbledore's voice was soft and soothing, though there was an alert look on his face. Like everyone else, they knew that there was something seriously wrong with Daisy. Enough to make Erica cry like this.

"She's DEAD!" Erica screamed, and then wailed loudly. Hermione stiffened immediately, and collective gasps could be heard around the group. "They killed her! She's _dead_."

Her body began twitching uncontrollably, and Hermione eyed her suspiciously. It didn't seem to be the normal symptoms of grief. What if Daisy's killers had gotten to Erica as well? The professors moved forward to calm her down, but one student in the crowd piped, "Who was it? Did you see their face?"

"Yes," Erica gasped, trying hard to breath now. The teachers tried to get her to stop talking, but Erica would not shut her mouth. "It was…it was…" She wailed loudly once more, and then said one more word that made Hermione stop cold. "Malfoy."

She fainted.

Dumbledore felt her neck and announced that the girl was still alive. The professors carried her off. Some of the students scurried after them, others chattered among themselves. Nick shot her a worried look, but was dragged off by Seamus.

She, Tom and Black, however, still stood in the same place, in shock. Because while she knew Tom was perfectly capable of murder, and _she_ herself was perfectly capable, their names had not been the one that came out of Erica's mouth.

_Malfoy, _Erica had said.

_Abraxas._

ஐ

"How's Orion holding up?"

Hermione looked at the girl next to her. She still had no idea how Eileen had roped her in to spending time together with her. She wasn't Daisy's killer, that was for sure, as Cygnus and Violetta both testified that Eileen was with them at the time of the attack.

However, even though Erica had mentioned Abraxas's surname, Hermione still couldn't accept the fact that Abraxas was the killer. While she knew he had strong house rivalry feelings, he wasn't going to _kill_ one of them.

"As well as he can," The thing that made Hermione the most suspicious was the fact that Abraxas had seemed genuinely confused when Black refused to talk to him. When no one would explain to him, he got rather frustrated and starting yelling. Black did not take that well.

Abraxas was found in his room, where he was locked there until further questioning. His dorm mates were allowed to visit him, while advised to keep their wands out at all times. Abraxas had been stripped of his wand. There were guards outside his room, which, is possible, made the other students even more nervous.

"He'll get over it."

"I sure hope so," She grimaced as she heard yelling coming from the dorm next to theirs. "I'm going to go check on them." She was still skeptical about spending time with Eileen, thanks to Nick and all his suspicions. Eileen, on the other hand, had decided that sticking herself to Hermione was the best course of action. Nick had retaliated, of course, by declaring Hermione needed a personal bodyguard. So Hermione spent the past few days with two rather annoying people bickering with each other. She could not study in the library, she did not have privacy in her room. She spent hours in the bathroom with a book in her lap, trying to block out the fighting from Eileen and Nick outside.

Eileen waved her away, not even looking up from her book.

At first Hermione had thought that it was because of her father. She had contacted him, asking if her weekly letters weren't enough. He replied that they were never enough, but made it clear that he wasn't the one that killed Daisy. He seemed to have no knowledge prior to the incident, which worried Hermione greatly.

Was there another spy at Hogwarts who was working for another person? This greatly troubled Hermione. She couldn't even deal with her father and his pesky tricks. There was no room for another spy to arise. She couldn't deal with all of them.

Hermione stepped in to the boy dormitory without knocking. Black was yelling at Abraxas, who was yelling back. She noticed that the two of them sat quite far away from each other. Cygnus was trying to block out the sound and was reading a book, giving an occasional eye roll, but even he was scooting away from Abraxas. Tom was nowhere to be seen.

They stopped arguing when they saw her standing there, before Abraxas let out a sigh of relief. "Hermione, thank _Merlin_ you're here," he said. "They won't believe me when I say I was in my dorm yesterday."

"You weren't," Black growled. "I looked up there. It was empty."

"I _was_ there! You _found me here_." Abraxas protested, looking pleadingly at Hermione. When she said nothing, a panicked look appeared on his face. "I even waved to you. Didn't you see it?"

"No." Black growled. "I can't believe you keep making excuses." He added something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "I can't believe I trusted you." It was evident by the look on Abraxas's face that he had heard his friend's comment.

"Why does it matter where I was?" Abraxas asked. "Did something happen?"

Hermione blinked slowly, and then turned to Black. "He doesn't know?"

"Of course he knows. He's just playing dumb."

Abraxas shook his head, but if he really was the killer, he would give Tom a run for his money in the acting department. "I don't know. All I know is when you came up here, when I was in the dorm, no less-"

"You could've easily left and came back," Black glared, but Abraxas ignored him.

"You were yelling at me. You've been yelling at me for the past ten hours. I haven't gone anywhere, and naturally, you don't seem to feel like doing anything but yell at me, so I don't know what's going on." He was glaring daggers now, and Hermione had a slight suspicion that some of his anger was directed towards her for not standing up for him. "And I will _never_ know unless you tell me."

Black clenched his teeth. "A killer always remembers his crimes."

Abraxas paled. "Who died?"

"Daisy Chang," Cygnus spoke up for the first time. He was still reading his book, though his eyes were sharp and alert. "Her friend, Erica Belby, told us about it. She was able to spit your name out before she fell in to coma."

"She said _my_ name?" Abraxas looked shocked. "B-but I didn't even go near her. What motive could I possibly have for killing her?"

"Oh, I don't know," Black rolled his eyes. "Maybe the fact that you're in Slytherin and she's in Gryffindor?"

Abraxas's jaw dropped. "That doesn't mean I want her _dead_!"

"Victims don't just spit out names just because they feel like it," Black shot back. "If you can't explain why Erica Belby decided to name you as the killer, you better come up with a story. Fast. They're interrogating Gabriel right now. It's only a matter of time before they get here."

"Gabriel?" Abraxas perked up. "So Erica Belby didn't actually say my name?"

"Your surname," Black answered. "But seeing how Gabriel had an alibi while you don't is a good reason to put a majority of the suspicion on you."

"I can't believe you," Abraxas muttered. "I can't believe you'd turn on me just like that."

"Well, maybe if you told me where you _really_ were last night, then I'd hear you out. But since you decided to lie to me, you don't deserve my time." Black's eyes flared up. "I _trusted_ you, Abraxas."

Abraxas looked hurt, and Hermione cut him off before they could start another argument. "You said Gabriel has an alibi?" Hermione asked, looking at Black. He nodded. "Who was he with?"

"The usual. Wallie, Avery and Lestrange."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "They're not particularly trustable figures, are they?"

He was in her face in a second. "Listen up, Granger," he didn't use her nickname, and the smoldering glare he was giving her was enough to inform her that he was angry. "Wallie is my cousin, and she's perfectly trustable. You insult her one more time, and I'll make sure you won't ever be able to again." He slammed the door on his way out.

"He doesn't mean that," Cygnus sighed, tucking his book away. He was tense, though, as tense as he had been with Violetta had been kidnapped. "Though I'd really appreciate if you didn't go around insulting people." His voice was calm, but his door slam was not.

Great. She had managed to piss off two people. She turned back to look at Abraxas, who had a faraway look in his eyes. She sat on Black's bed; not because she was afraid that proximity would allow him to kill her, because she doubted that Abraxas could kill her even if he tried. She wanted to give him some space.

She suddenly wished she hadn't. He punched the wall and let out a low cry, before falling back on to his bed, clutching his hand. Even from the distance, Hermione saw it turning red.

"_Abraxas_!" She yelled, crossing the room in large strides. She forgot about her resolve to stay away from him and instead picked up his head. He winced, but with a couple of wand waves from Hermione, he could move his hand again. "Don't do that. Man versus wall always results in the wall winning."

Abraxas made an incoherent sound.

"Where were you yesterday?"

Abraxas sighed. "I meant it when I said I was in my room. You can use legilimency or veritaserum on me if you would. I even waved to you, and you waved back." Abraxas frowned. "Don't you remember?"

Hermione racked her brain. She only remembered spending time with Ron and his snowmen, then getting interrupted by Tom and Black. She had never once looked towards the castle. Also, didn't Black and Tom also tell her that Abraxas was missing? If she had seen him, she would've told the other two.

Hermione shook her head.

"You don't?" Abraxas asked in disbelief. "Please tell me you're not trying to get me convicted. _Please._" He looked to be on the verge of tears. He looked nothing like the boy she had met at the manor a couple months ago, whose cool demeanor could freeze over anything. Her father would've been disgusted by such a display of weakness. Hermione, however, felt a sympathy within her stir up.

"I'm not," She said. "I promise I'm not."

"You don't trust me, do you?" Abraxas said. "_God damn it_," He looked like he wanted to punch the wall again. When he spoke, there was a new bitterness in his voice. "So much for the loyalty I thought I had."

"They're just confused," Hermione tried. She had never been good at comforting. Nick had never needed comforting. When he cried, she cried. Hermione highly doubted her bursting in to tears right now would do Abraxas any good. "Give them some time. I'm sure they'll come around."

"And you?" Abraxas turned his blue eyes towards her, piercing in to hers. "Do _you_ trust me?"

She thought about lying to him, but thought he deserved as much. "I don't know what I think." She said quietly, and Abraxas accepted her answer. None of the facts added up, plus the fact that Abraxas seemed to be convinced that indeed he was in his room the whole time troubled her. He had even claimed she had noticed him, but she remembered no such thing.

"I guess this is it," Abraxas said, his voice dull. All the life seemed to go out of his eyes, and Hermione realized just how much her last statement hurt him. "I'd say it's been nice knowing you, but it's obvious you don't feel the same."

"Abraxas, what are you saying?" Hermione asked him, her eyes opened wide. She was rather bewildered.

"I'm going to Azkaban," Abraxas said simply, as if he were talking about the weather. "It's kind of like Black says. I have no alibi, my name was named by a girl who is currently in coma, and all proof is pointing towards me." He shuddered, his eyes looking at something far away. "Do you think the dementors are scary?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Abraxas, something isn't right. I-I'll investigate. Don't give up yet." She regretted her statement earlier about how she didn't trust him. She wished she could take it back. She hadn't meant that she gave up on him. She meant that she wasn't going to point any fingers until she gathered more information.

Abraxas shook her head and gave her a small smile. "It's too late, Hermione." He got up and left, his cloak swirling behind him. Outside, the guards notice that he's up, and point their wands at him. He follows obediently.

It isn't until later that she realizes that Dumbledore prevented him from going to Azkaban. The professor argued that he was too young, and Hermione let out a sigh of relief. He was going to a small jail in Gringotts, guarded by at least twenty five goblins at a time. Not that that was much better, but she would take goblins to dementors any day.

She also learns that when Dumbledore looked through Abraxas's memories, he found the exact memory that Erica had been talking about. Abraxas standing over Daisy, a knife stained in red in his hands.

ஐ

"You spend way too much time here."

Hermione didn't even look as her companion sat down in the chair next to her. Her eyes were focused on the unconscious form of Erica Belby. "I can't help it. I can't wait for her to wake up." She eyed him curiously. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"It's my job as a prefect, of course," Tom offered, though Hermione suspected it was more than that. When Tom glanced at Erica, there was no emotion on his face at all.

"It's not _your_ job," Hermione pointed out. "It's Gryffindor Prefect's job." She recalled had Minerva had come in to the room a lot of times, sobbing about Daisy and Erica. Lily had often come in with her, and while Minerva had tried to be nice, Lily had announced her hatred for Abraxas, right in front of Hermione.

It just broke Hermione's heart when she went down during a Hogsmeade trip. Black and Cygnus had refused to come with her, and even though Tom wanted to come, he was roped away by Tracey. Tom and Hermione had come to an agreement, which was more like granting Tom more privileges since the agreement did not benefit her at all. She would try not to kill Tracey, and he would try not to lead her on. He was not supposed to do that, anyway, but Hermione let it slide.

When Slughorn asked if the two of them were dating, Hermione shook her head and told him that she was too much of an emotional wreck at the moment. It was partly true, and he didn't need to know that she also devoted much of her energy to find out who had determinedly framed Abraxas. His memory was not good enough to convince her. Someone could've tampered with it.

When she had gotten down to Abraxas's cell in Gringotts, she saw him chained and sitting idly, staring at the wall. His blonde hair was a wreck, and his clothes were ripped. She called his name, and his eyes seemed to go straight through her. Hermione had a mini heart attack, worrying that he had lost his mind.

She sat with him until his eyes were back to normal. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "Hermione," he croaked. "You came to see me." The small smile he gave showed her just how much he appreciated her visiting.

"You know I would," She said quietly. "That day, in the dorm, I didn't mean that I didn't trust you-"

"Shh," Abraxas shook his head and looked away. "It's okay. I forgive you." His eyes dulled again, and he looked down at his hands. "Do you forgive me?"

"There was nothing to forgive." Hermione promised him. "I'll go find the person who framed you, Abraxas. And I'll bring you back to Hogwarts. I promise. I'm investigating right now, so don't give up."

Abraxas chuckled, and then coughed rather violently. Hermione moved to help him, but there wasn't much she could do when they were separated by bars. "I feel bad for the person, having _you_ investigate." He said. "They're going to get no mercy." He paused and then frowned. "But what if that person is me?"

Hermione was startled. "You don't know?"

Abraxas shook his head. "No. Dumbledore said that there was something with my memory that didn't seem quite right. Now, I don't even know what's real or not. I'm so screwed up," He let out a shaky laugh. "I think I'm going mad."

"No, you aren't," Hermione said. "I can still see Abraxas in you."

Abraxas shrugged. "But only just a little. Even if I do get through this mess, I don't want to go back to Hogwarts anymore. How will I face Black? Cygnus? Tom? Everyone else? I can't."

"Abraxas, you have it wrong," Hermione said as gently as possible. "You don't have to face anyone. It's _them_ who has to face you. You're just the victim of a cruel game between evil forces. That's all."

"What about you?" He looked at her. "Do you believe me now?"

"Abraxas, I always trusted you," She said. "I knew you before Black or Tom or Cygnus. I just needed a little reminding, that's all. Now, since I have to leave soon, why don't we talk about Quidditch?" His eyes instantly lit up, and although she had no interest in Quidditch at all, she listened through Abraxas's chattering, happy to hear a piece of his old self.

When she left him, she promised she'd be back as soon as she could. Abraxas had seemed a lot happier, and Hermione had managed to give him a book about Quidditch. The guards had declared it harmless enough, so Hermione left her friend to read in peace.

"You've been out of it as well," Tom was saying, snapping Hermione out of her memory. "It's no fun like this. I gain nothing over my victories over you now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A win is a win."

"Yes, but if you're not your usual self, there's no point in winning." Tom sat back in his chair. "If I wanted to compete against a bunch of dunderheads, I have this whole school to choose from."

Hermione giggled softly at Tom's choice of nicknames, and then looked down at Erica. "How long do you think till she wakes?"

"I don't know," Tom shrugged. "I doubt even Pomfrey knows."

"It's just, I want to make sure it wasn't Gabriel that Erica was talking about," Hermione frowned. "Sure, he has an alibi, and there's been nothing strange happening to him in the past few weeks, though I don't think Walburga and Avery and Lestrange count as good eyewitness." She looked at him. "No offense."

"None taken." Tom stared at Erica, before saying, "It wasn't Abraxas."

Hermione was surprised. "How do you know?"

"Well," Tom said, his trademark smirk back on his face. "How do you think I trained all of them? If Abraxas really did kill that girl, he would've been much more subtle about it. Certainly not to the point where the incident was clearly in his memories. If he really did leave that much evidence, he should be worrying about what _I'll_ do to him."

"Oh really," Hermione deadpanned. She was surprised that Tom showed his evil side so leisurely when Dumbledore could've been right outside the door. "So you go with the argument that if Abraxas really was the killer, there would be no evidence left behind at all?"

"Of course," Tom looked offended. "I _am_ the world's greatest teacher, after all. Abraxas learns from the best."

Hermione snorted. "How do you explain Avery, then?"

"I'm not teaching Avery," Tom said offhandedly. "I don't see the point in spending much effort in a lost cause. I only use him because his father can get me in to high places." Tom smirked at her. "So curse him all you want."

Hermione was rather surprised that he was sharing all this with her. "Thanks for your permission, your highness," she said dryly.

"You're welcome," He smirked. "What about you? Anything I should know about?"

She knew that he was referring to her life, but she decided to pretend she misunderstood his question. "Oh, Abraxas is not the killer," she said. "I'm trying to find out who it is."

Tom raised his eyebrows. "And why are you so sure?"

"Because I am." Hermione said stubbornly.

Tom stared at for her a couple more seconds, before laughing. "And you called my reason weak." He said, and Hermione scowled at him. "You sound like a kindergartener."

Hermione decided to ignore him. "So will you?" She asked. "Will you come with me to try to figure out who's trying to frame Abraxas?"

His eyes were twinkling mischievously. "And what do I get out of this?"

"Abraxas coming back?"

"Nice try, Hermione," he smirked. "Not tempting enough. Maybe a little piece of information on your past?"

"No," Hermione said, and he had an amused look on his face. "I don't need your help to find the framer. I offered you out of the niceness of my heart." This earned her a snort from Tom. "_Fine_. If you don't want to, you can turn me down quite easily."

"Miss," There was a voice from outside. "Miss, you can't go in there right now—"

The door burst open and a woman with blonde curls and ugly glasses stepped in to the room. Pomfrey was behind her, trying to drag her out, but the woman wouldn't budge. She had her eyes fixed on Hermione and Tom.

"My, my," she said. "Why Mister…" She looked at Tom.

"Tom," Tom said politely, though Hermione could see the suspicion in his eyes. "Tom Riddle."

"Mister Tom Riddle, how very nice to meet you," She cooed, and then turned to Hermione. "Young lady, you know better than to ask him out in the infirmary. There are certainly more appropriate place to be doing this." She sniffed.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "I wasn't asking him out!" She said, narrowing her eyes. Tom smirked, seeming that he decided where this conversation was heading. "And what are _you_ doing here? Dippet said no visitors were allowed."

"_I_ am not a visitor," The woman said, huffing. "I am a journalist. Do you know who I am, young lady?"

Hermione shook her head. She wanted to point out that being a journalist still counted as being a visitor, but instead said, "Nope. Never seen you before." Next to her, Tom snorted.

The woman eyed her in disdain. "I am Rita Skeeter," she announced. "I write stories for the Daily Prophet."

"Never heard of you before either," Hermione replied cheekily.

Rita looked like she wanted to retort, before she turned to her cameraman. "Bozo!" She said sharply, the man pushed Pomfrey aside to get in to the hospital wing. Pomfrey looked like she wanted to run and get Dippet, but didn't know if she should leave the two of them with the journalist.

The man named Bozo took their picture before Hermione could even process what was happening. Hermione's mouth dropped open and she glared at Rita, who was murmuring to herself.

"Your name, young lady?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. "And why should I tell you?"

"I honestly don't see what you see in her, Tom," Rita said. "Her hair's a mess. They ruin my photos." Tom stared back, unmoving. She was grateful that he didn't decide to support Rita's side just to win her over. Rita suddenly stiffened, and then glanced back at her. "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"

When Hermione didn't say anything, Rita continued, "Of course you are. I've heard so much about your behavior. I should've recognized you right away."

"Recognized me?" Hermione said, rather baffled. Was it her father? Did word get out that her father was actually Grindelwald?

"Yes. Snobby, ugly, chasing after poor Tom here. You fit all the descriptions." Hermione gritted her teeth angrily. "But resorting to love potions is a no no, young lady. What would the school feel if they heard?"

"I am _not_ using love potions!" Hermione said, but Rita was not listening. She was talking to a large, floating quill behind her.

"She's in denial," Rita said, and the quill wrote something down. "Typical symptoms." Before Hermione could punch her, she asked her next question, "How do you feel about your friend, Abraxas Malfoy? Did him coming off as a killer surprise you greatly? Has he confided in you on his plans?"

Hermione didn't know why she responded to her. "Abraxas is not the killer," she said as calmly as she possibly could. "I would appreciate if you didn't report this. This is personal business."

Rita, of course, ignored her. "While getting over the lost love of her boyfriend, Abraxas Malfoy, she forced herself on Tom Riddle." Hermione stared, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with the woman in front of her. "Tom Riddle, being the responsible prefect, turned her down. Hermione Granger then thought it was necessary to turn to love potion."

"Who are your sources?" Hermione asked, trying not to look too furious as Bozo was still snapping pictures.

"Miss Tracey Parkinson, of course," Hermione groaned. Of course it would be her. Rita sniffed. "She has informed me of many more of your improper behaviors, Miss Granger. I will make them come to light one by one."

_And I'll have my father murder you slowly!_ Hermione thought angrily. _Strike that, I'll murder you myself._

"You have fun with that," Hermione snapped at her, dragging Tom with her. Tom seemed happy to comply. While he still had his polite smile plastered on his face, there was a cold edge in his eyes. "Let's go, Tom."

The last thing she heard before slamming the hospital wing door was Rita saying, "Oh my, Miss Granger seems to have problems with rejections. She just doesn't know when to stop, does she?" The quill scratched against the parchment. "Bozo, that is enough. This will make a fantastic article."


	17. Chapter 16 EXTRA

**Author's Note: **And here we have an extra chapter! To my defense, my favorite book just came out, and I wasn't in a writing mood, so I decided this was easier. Let me just say, this was probably the hardest chapter I have _ever_ had to write, and that's referring not only to this story, but all my other essays I had to do. So forgive me if it sucks, because I just didn't want to write it near the end, though I figured I should finish what I had started.

I repeat: _This is an extra chapter._ You do not need to read this in order to understand the storyline. Very little mentions of Hermione and Tom in this chapter, and none of scenes have them together. The next chapter will go right back to the plotline, so feel free to skip this chapter if you want to. (Though I hope you won't.)

UniCryin-Yes, I did mean eyelashes. Fail on my part. And I purposely tried to make Rita hate-able, so it would be more in character. If you're looking for a likable Rita, you may need to read another story.

Angellwriter- To answer your multiple questions: 1. Can't answer that. All in due time. 2. Can't answer that either. 3. Finally one I can answer! Hermione is rather insecure at this point, as she hasn't really had anyone who has truly cared for her (as you can probably tell, she's pretty keen on pretending Nick doesn't exist when she thinks about these things) therefore, right now, she's just trying to see what she can get with Tom, though with her temper, this is not going to last like this. ;) 4. Rita knows about Tom through Tracey, and with a headmaster like Dippet, anything is possible. 5. Evidently, right now.

Thanks for your reviews!

harmonious, voldyismyfather, asianstotheleft, lalyta8, TheGirlonFire52, UniCryin, TheEscapeFromReality, Weird-Chik2, Zombie Reine, Virtuoso Wanderings, Alassea Riddle, morpheusandmuse, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, AkiProductions, Angellwriter, tHevoLtuRi'SdARkpRiNceSS

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><p>"Sir! You mustn't do that!" The maid, Leila, shrieked as she watched hopelessly as Abraxas stomped all over his dress robes. The fabric ripped slightly, though it did not seem to bother the boy. "You have a dinner to go to!"<p>

"I don't care!" Five year old Abraxas all but screamed, turning his glaring eyes at the maid. She shrunk back, wondering why she took this job in the first place. If it hadn't been enough that she had to face Lord Malfoy's nasty temper every day, she also had to deal with his two sons. Abraxas was, of course, the better of the two. Gabriel was just downright awful. However, she didn't exactly look forward to face his stubbornness either.

"I want you out," Abraxas suddenly declared, and Leila eyed him fearfully. He was now jumping on his ridiculously expensive bed, one she could only _dream_ of having. The servant headquarters were better than she expected, but worse than she hoped for. If she hadn't been in such a need for money, she would've never signed up for this. She would've bought a house far away from the Malfoy Manor. "You can't tell me what to do."

Leila opened her mouth, but then the door opened and Lady Malfoy came strolling in. Leila tried her best not to gap at her beautiful dress, and the sparkling pins holding her blond hair. Lady Malfoy was a beautiful woman, but when she dressed like this, there were no words to describe her stunning demeanor. Her eyes, however, were cold and hard, and Leila shivered when they swept across the room.

"Abraxas," Lady Malfoy clipped, and the young heir immediately quieted down upon his mother's arrival. "Go put on your robes." Abraxas frowned, but didn't dare say anything. Lady Malfoy then turned towards Leila, who was wishing she could just squish in to a corner and disappear. "I am disappointed in how you handled this situation."

Leila cast her eyes downward, aware that Abraxas was watching her carefully. He looked too mature to be just a mere five year old, and it always unnerved her when she was scolded in front of him. "I'm sorry, Lady Malfoy," She whispered softly.

"You should not be apologizing to me. It's my son's time you're wasting." Lady Malfoy turned around to exit the room. "Get him dressed in five minutes."

She left, and Abraxas sat expectantly on the bed, showing no sign that he would be helpful. Leila sighed, gathered the dress robes from where Abraxas had stomped on them, and held them out for the young boy.

Abraxas looked at it, and then back at her. "Mother said you had to get me dressed."

Leila blinked for a couple of seconds, and then said, "Then, sir, will you get up? I can't get you dressed when you're sitting."

Abraxas clenched his jaw. "Mother said _you_ had to get me dressed. _I_ don't need to do anything."

Thus, Leila was left with the nearly impossible task of changing Abraxas's clothes without him moving at all. He would not lift his arm, nor would he move the legs that he was sitting on. Lady Malfoy had permitted her five minutes, but she hadn't even managed to take off his shirt by then. He was seemingly trying his best to make sure that this task would be as hard as possible for her while shooting insults at her at the same time. He also seemed to get the idea that she was trying to molest him, and he didn't hesitate to tell her so.

In the end, she had grown increasingly frustrated and rather unnerved as Abraxas continued to stare at her. She had accidently pulled too hard, and one of his shirt buttons popped off and rolled under the bed. Abraxas stared at her, and then down to his shirt, where the button was missing. Leila froze, knowing that as soon as Abraxas called for his mother, she was going to feel the pain of at least one curse.

The young boy, however, just blinked. "My button is gone," he said simply.

"Y-yes, sir," Leila stammered. "I-I'm so sorry!"

"It was my favorite shirt," Abraxas said, though she didn't know if he was speaking to her or to himself. "That was my favorite button." He glanced beneath the bed again. "My favorite button is gone."

All of the buttons looked the same, but it wasn't her place to point it out. "I'm sorry, sir," she repeated.

Abraxas frowned at her. "I don't want your apology," he said. "I want my button back."

Leila nodded hastily, hoping that he would keep it like this and not call for his mother. Lady Malfoy was definitely the worst of the family. She barely saw Lord Malfoy around, and neither one of the sons were too keen on using magic with her. They preferred taunting her, which was fine with her. Anything beat having the torture curse cast on her. "I'll go get it for you," she said, and before he could say anything else, she ducked under the bed.

It was dark, darker than she had originally thought. She thought about going back up to get a flashlight, but she didn't want Abraxas to be furious when she came empty-handed. She groped around, making a face when she touched all kinds of dust. Clearly, the maid in charge of this room was slacking off. She wondered if it would be beneficial for her to rat the other maid out, or if it would just make her more enemies. She highly doubted Lady Malfoy would show her appreciation of that.

Her fingers successfully connected with a smooth, circular object, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She slowly started to edge out from under the bed, making sure she was aware where the bed was so she wouldn't hit her head. However, Abraxas took that moment to start jumping on the bed. Though he didn't weigh much, the bed sagged down and hit her head as she was going up, nearly knocking her out.

"Ow!" She said, trying to fight back tears. What kind of adult would allow a five year old to see her cry? However, the pain only grew, and she swore she could see stars. "Ow. Ow. Ow." The bed jumping had stopped, and Leila waited for the boy to start making fun of her.

However, his insults never reached her ears. Instead, she heard a soft voice say, "Leila?"

She managed to crawl out from under the bed, still clutching her head painfully. She held out the button for him, which he took—without a 'thank you,' of course—but he was still glancing at her curiously. "What happened?"

"I hit my head," she tried to smile, but he wore an unreadable expression. His head was cocked to one side, and he looked too mature to be a five year old. "It's no big deal," she touched her head, and winced. There was going to be a bruise forming there later.

"Leila!" Abraxas said so furiously that she jumped and moved away from him. What did he want? Was he angry that his button was dirty? Or maybe he would think that she didn't hit her head hard enough. She swallowed. "Don't die, Leila!"

Leila stared at him. Was that _concern_ she saw in the boy's eyes? She couldn't be sure. Or maybe this was just a joke he was playing on her that he could laugh about later. It certainly seemed more plausible. "I'm not dying, sir."

Abraxas rummaged through his closets and pulled out something. It was a band aid, with golden ball with wings on it. Leila had no idea what it was, but she had seen him throwing the ball around the house. He seemed happier when he was with it. "Here," he announced, and without warning, stuck it to her head. Rather than sticking to her head, though, it was clinging to her hair, but it didn't seem to bother Abraxas. "Better?"

Leila could only stare bewilderedly at his strange behavior. "Y-yes sir."

"You're not going to die anymore, are you?"

"No, sir."

"Good," he beamed at her, grabbed his robes, and then skipped off his bed. "Bye, Leila."

Leila blinked as the young boy, wearing his dress robes and looking quite handsome indeed, exited the room with a new spring in his steps. She couldn't help but ponder the idea that maybe, under all the ice he had cast around himself, there was a heart in Abraxas Malfoy after all.

ஐ

"You're uglier in real life,"

Abraxas scowled at the boy in front of him. He looked about his age as well, and he had black hair that was slicked back, and dark eyes. He gave Abraxas a smirk, but it wasn't a nice kind of smirk. It was more…challenging.

Abraxas Malfoy never backed down from a challenge.

"Why are you looking at my picture?" Abraxas countered back, and the boy flushed. If he were to harbor a guess, this boy was one of the sons of the Black family, though Abraxas had never seen _his _face in the newspaper, so he guessed that the boy wasn't very important.

"I wasn't looking at your picture," The boy said. "I can't help but see your obnoxious face on every newspaper. Do you _have_ to have the spotlight on yourself? Quite the attention hog, I must say."

"I don't see _you_ on any newspapers," Abraxas replied haughtily. "So I wouldn't be talking."

The boy opened his mouth, but was cut off when his mother approached the bickering duo. "Orion," she said sternly, and the boy immediately fell silent. The woman was pretty, though there were dark circles under her eyes. His mother had always said that people only got those when they were tired. Maybe the woman was tired because Orion was loud all the time? "That's no way to treat our guests. Why don't you show him your room?" The look in her eyes clearly said that arguing was not an option.

Orion hung his head and nodded. "Yes, Mother." He threw a glare at Abraxas and then stalked off, leaving him to catch up with the boy's long strides. Abraxas glanced towards his mother, but she shooed him off.

They made their way down a narrow corridor, when Orion suddenly slapped his head and said, "I forgot something!" Abraxas looked at him, confused. "Just go down there and make a right, and then it's the first door on the left. I'll be right with you." Before Abraxas could protest, Orion sprinted off and out of sight.

Abraxas bit his lip. He was in a random house and he was lost. However, he followed Black's directions and moved forward. The door had a large number _413_ on it. Abraxas frowned at it, before slowly opening the door.

…and he wished he hadn't.

A large, ugly dog was sitting there, baring its teeth angrily. As Abraxas stood, petrified, it reared its ugly head and growled at him. It leaned closer to sniff him, its ugly paws reaching for him, and it wasn't until the dog's spit dropped on his head did he wake up and slam the door, running for his life.

He pulled out his wand as he ran—his mother had brought him to Diagon Alley just the week before—and waved it over his head. Instantly, the dog's drool vanished from his hair. Leila had spent hours on his hair, but to her defense, he _had_ been rather unhelpful. Still, his beautiful hair, covered in dog spit…he grimaced.

Abraxas jumped a mile when he heard the growl of the dog behind him. Without checking to see if it was real or if he had hallucinated it, he took off down the hallway. He had no idea where he was going, just turning whenever he had to. He stopped to pant a couple of times, but would hear the growling, and would take off running again. While his stamina was decreasing, the dog's only seemed to be increasing.

_I can't win._

Just when he couldn't run any longer, he spotted a door slightly open. He threw himself in to the room and closed the door behind him, before sinking to the floor, panting. It took him a moment to compose himself before he could trust himself to stand. The dog, however, was gone, much to his relief.

That was when he noticed that he wasn't alone. He had thrown himself in to a bedroom, and there were two kids about his age. There was a girl, who was lying with her back to the mattress, her dark hair splattered prettily around her. She looked rather innocent, and her big eyes blinked at him curiously.

The boy who was leaning on top of her looked rather like the Orion boy he had met earlier, but upon closer inspection, Abraxas could tell it was not him. This boy looked more somber, and his hair wasn't quite as messy as Orion's. His eyes, rather than radiating anger, were closed and guarded.

"Um." Abraxas said awkwardly when no one said anything. The boy had moved slightly off the girl, but to Abraxas's dismay, did not remove his hands from her face. "Sorry. I got lost..and…" he trailed off, biting is lip. Then, because he had never been able to stop his lousy mouth, he blurted out, "Hasn't your mother ever told you it's indecent to do this sort of thing with guests over?"

The boy frowned, but recognition dawned the girl's face. "We're not doing anything," she reassured him, her cheeks taking a pink tinge. "Cy was just tickling me." She pushed the boy—Cygnus, Abraxas assumed—so that she could get up. Cygnus glared at him, and Abraxas just shrugged. It wasn't as if he was particularly interested in the girl, even if she was rather pretty. Cygnus didn't have to consider him competition. "I'm Violetta," she introduced herself. "I'm five."

"Abraxas," he nodded curtly at her. "I'm also five." He added quickly, "Though I'll be six in two months."

Violetta smiled at him, and Abraxas decided right then and there that he liked her, but before she could say anything else, the door burst open and in came a panting Orion. "You won't believe it," he was grinning from ear to ear, a look that Abraxas hadn't seen on his face before. He looked like a nice boy when he wasn't scowling. "I sent him in the direction of the hallucination room. He should still be running around. Maybe I should go take pictures." He snorted.

Abraxas clenched his jaw, glaring furiously. So he did it on purpose! He was a git. A big, fat git. Abraxas didn't hesitate to tell him so, and Orion's eyes widened in realization when he realized that the boy he had just been talking about was standing right next to him.

"So you made it back here after all," Orion sneered. "Pity." He then ignored Abraxas and smiled at Violetta and Cygnus. "Come on. Mother wants us down there for dinner."

Cygnus was still staring between he and Abraxas suspiciously, but Violetta nodded. "Come on," she said cheerfully, tugging on Abraxas's arms. Orion saw the contact and scowled. Cygnus saw it as well, but his expression didn't change. "Let's go."

Abraxas nodded, but noticed that Orion was still staring at them. Smirking, he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Violetta's ears. Violetta smiled prettily, but Orion nearly flew across the room. He could hear an amused snort come from Cygnus. Before Orion could do any harm to him, he pulled Violetta out of the room. "Lead the way," he said, and she nodded.

Dinner started off terrible. Apparently, the two families had decided that he and Orion needed some bonding time, so he ended up between Violetta and Orion. The latter had begged to trade seats, but both of their mothers would not allow it. Finally, realizing it was useless, Orion sat back and didn't say anything else, throwing glares at Abraxas.

Next to Violetta sat Cygnus, and the two of them chattered. Rather, Violetta chattered, and Cygnus listened. The boy had a small smile at his face though, and Abraxas couldn't help but envy the obvious friendship that the two of them shared.

He rarely had friends. His parents would never let him meet anyone else. He supposed his best friends would be Mr. Phil, his teddy bear, and Leila. But Leila almost died because of him, so he didn't know if she still liked him. He only wanted to have some fun with her. He hoped that the band aid was still making her feel better.

"So, Abraxas," Lady Black drawled slowly, and he bowed his head respectfully at her. His mother looked pleased that he had paid attention during his etiquette class. "Tell me a bit about yourself."

"I like Quidditch." Abraxas said. He saw, out of the corner of his eyes, Orion's eyes light up. So he was a Quidditch lover as well? That was a pity. He would have to tolerate his presence on the Quidditch team, assuming they both went in to Slytherin. Abraxas frowned. Though, if one of them didn't get in to Slytherin, they would have bigger problems than each other to worry about.

"Do you?" Lady Black cooed. "My son loves Quidditch as well. Orion, not Cygnus." Her eyes wandered over to Cygnus, who stared back. She seemed to give Violetta a disproving look, which the little girl didn't notice, before returning her attention back to Abraxas. He was confused. What was there not to like about Violetta? "Do you play well?"

Abraxas shrugged. Under normal circumstances, he would've bragged. However, Lady Black was unnerving him with her smile, and he figured the less he conversed with her, the better. "Not that well," he said, and his mother beamed at his modesty.

"Quite the boy you have there, Irma," Lord Black said. Gabriel stiffened and glared at his brother, obvious distraught that Abraxas was getting all the attention. He was two years older, seven years old, though he always liked to pretend that he was older. "Shame we didn't have any daughters, or I would arrange for them to be married."

Gabriel nearly choked on his wine, his eyes blazing when he looked at his brother. Orion decided to be nasty again and said, "Why would any girl want to marry _him_?"

"Orion, dear," Lady Black glanced at her son sharply. His mother always looked at him like that, but never as angrily as Lady Black was doing now. Abraxas had originally thought the two women were similar; now, he was grateful that his mother was the more composed one. "That's not how you speak to your friend."

"He's not my friend!" Orion yelled, and then got up. Feeling slightly annoyed that the boy had insulted him, Abraxas stuck out his foot as he walked by, tripping him. Orion sprawled on the ground, ignoring the snort from his brother and the 'Oh my,' from Violetta, glaring at Abraxas. Then he spun around and disappeared.

ஐ

It was two weeks later when Abraxas saw him again. He was with Leila, as he was often. The maid had been rather surprised when Abraxas declared the two of them friends, sprouting some nonsense about wanting to be 'like Violetta and Cygnus.' Leila had no idea what he was talking about, but was happy that she could be in a room with him without feeling nervous.

She had told him the story of her son, Kyle, back home. Abraxas had asked if he was magical, and Leila nodded. She was proud of her son for being the first person in her family, ever, to be magical. Of course, others didn't see it as she did. When she had first arrived at the Malfoy Manor, she had foolishly told Lady Malfoy about it. Nevertheless, she received a full hour of torture, and she learned never to bring it up again.

Orion bounced in to the room and looked disgusted. His gaze wandered towards Leila, a woman wearing tattered rags and sitting on a clean, pureblood bed, to Abraxas, who was dressing naked women with clothing. "What are you doing?"

"Barbie," Abraxas held one up, flashing it Orion. He made a face. "You're supposed to dress her,"

"That's gross," Orion said. "Mother said that you had to be truly desperate to touch a naked women." His lips curled up. "That makes you a desperate person."

"Shut up!" Abraxas yelled at him, chucking the Barbie at him. Orion dodged quickly as the doll crashed in to the wall and fell limply to the ground. "It's just a doll!"

"You're too old to play with dolls!" Orion yelled back, and then grimaced at the Barbie. "Ew, its leg came off. You broke its leg." Orion glared at him. "Leg killer." Abraxas scowled as Orion sat down on his bed.

"Get off my bed."

Orion ignored him and focused his eyes on Leila, who backed away slightly. "Why do you have a maid?" He sneered at Abraxas. "House elves are so much more efficient. There's no need to Mudbloods like her."

Abraxas frowned at him. "Leila's my friend," he declared loudly, and Orion shot him a disgusted look. "If you don't like her, you can go away."

"I can't go away. Mother wants me to talk to you," Orion scowled. "Make her go away."

Leila glanced at the two bickering boys, already making a move to stand up. "Sir," she said, deciding to address Abraxas by his rightful title. She had been given him the leniency to address him by his name these last few days, though she didn't think it would be the best move at the moment. I should go-"

"No." Abraxas said. "I want you to stay." His eyes lit up. "Can you tell us a story?"

"Story?" Orion said, leaning back against the pillows. Abraxas scowled at this gesture, though the other boy didn't notice. "That's utterly boring, isn't it? Though it's better than listening to _him_ talk, so…" he looked at Leila. "Story it is, then."

Leila was suddenly nervous as the two boys looked at her expectantly. "I don't know any stories," she said softly.

Orion gave her a look that wasn't pleasant, but Abraxas jumped in. "You have a family, don't you, Leila?" She nodded. "Tell us about them then." He bounced on the bed with his knees. "I was to hear more about Mister Leila and Little Leila and Mama Leila and Papa Leila." He looked at Leila proudly. "She told me about Kyle Leila before."

"I didn't come here to hear you rambling, Malfoy," Orion said. "I came here to hear her story."

"You came here because your mother told you to, Black," Abraxas countered. He turned and beamed at Leila, who was rather confused as to why the two parents would try to thrust these boys in a room together when they obviously hated each other. "You can start now, Leila."

"There isn't much to tell," Leila protested, but from the looks on the boys' faces, they weren't going to take 'no' as an answer. "Kyle is three years ago," she said. "His first word was potato."

"Potato?" Orion wrinkled his nose. "I don't like potatoes."

"Leila makes the best potatoes," Abraxas said. "You'll make some for him, won't you, Leila?" Leila stared. For a five year old, Abraxas had a strange way of expressing his dislike for people.

Orion shook his head. "I hate potatoes. _All_ potatoes."

"You've never had a real potato, then," Abraxas argued back.

Leila couldn't help it when a small giggle passed through her lips. Both boys looked at her curiously. "First of all, Abraxas, I don't make the potatoes. I wash and serve them." Abraxas scowled at her. "Second, why don't the two of you tell stories? It's much more interesting." She gestured towards Orion. "You can start with why you hate potatoes."

"There's nothing much to it," Orion said. "Wallie made me my first potatoes and they looked like lumps of poop."

"Who's Wallie?" Abraxas asked bluntly.

"My cousin." Orion waved him off. "She's even more annoying than you are." Abraxas glared at him. Orion looked at him innocently. "You _are_ annoying. Don't deny it."

"Am not," Abraxas lunged for him, and thus, their story telling time was over. Not that Leila minded; she preferred to watch the two of them fight rather than have to tell another story about Kyle. She missed him enough as it was, though, now that she looked at the two pureblood boys fighting, she was quite reminded of him indeed.

ஐ

Abraxas had a three year break from Orion Black, and he almost forgot about the boy. He was a distant memory, and ever since Lady Black had disappeared from some sort of freak accident, Abraxas had done his best to push the boy out of his mind.

Today was the first day of Hogwarts for him, and to say he was nervous was an understatement. Gabriel seemed to make a sport of goading him, telling him the dangers of every monster that lurked in the school. His mother had snapped at him to stop doing so, but once she had her back turned, Gabriel resumed torturing him.

"See you around," Gabriel called gleefully, heading down the train with his friend, Avery. Avery, Abraxas knew, was one year older than him, but he was held back. Why Gabriel was interested in being friends with someone obviously dumb and sinister was beyond him. Gabriel gave his brother one last smirk before shutting the door behind him.

And then Abraxas was alone.

The first couple of compartments he opened were full. A couple of them looked at him curiously, apologizing for the lack of seats. There was one compartment where a redhead and his friends sat. There was one open seat, but Abraxas wasn't going to sit in that. He had a feeling his hair color gave it away who he was. He knew who the boy was too; red hair and a hand-me-down-robe…must be a Weasley. He would rather sit on the roof than going anywhere near him.

Nearing the end of the train, he knocked on compartment twelve and entered without waiting for a response. Inside, there were two boys. One was probably the most handsome person he had ever met, and he had no doubt that if he were a girl, he would've fallen head over heels for the boy. The other boy, who was grinning and making wild hand gestures, looked vaguely familiar…

"This compartment is full," the grinning boy drawled, though it was very much empty to Abraxas's eyes. He pointed that out, which made the boy's grin grow wider. "Can't help if we're fat, can we? We take up this whole compartment."

"Yes, well," Abraxas closed the door behind him. "There are no other seats, so I'm sitting here anyway." The boy made a small noise of protest, but Abraxas ignored him and sat down. The other boy, the one with the dark hair and blue eyes, was watching him. His head was cocked to one side and his gaze was calculating.

"Hey!" The grinning boy poked him, his grin suddenly gone. "I know you! You're that guy who played with naked dolls!"

"I do _not_," Abraxas said hotly, glaring at the boy next to him. "And you're the guy who hates potatoes."

Orion shrugged. However, he did not snarl or glare like he used to. Abraxas wondered why his mother's disappearance could have such a positive effect on his behavior. "Never really got over that. You promised me Leila's potatoes, didn't you? How's Leila? She owes me potatoes."

"Leila…" Abraxas trailed off, remember the car, her happy face as she talked to him. "Leila died two years ago on her way back to visit Kyle. He's been sent to an orphanage."

Orion's jaw dropped, but the boy sitting across of him tensed at the mention of an orphanage. "I'm sorry," Orion said. "I'll miss her potatoes."

Abraxas glared at him. "That's all you have to say?"

"Well, she died happy, didn't she?" Orion shrugged. "What more can you ask for?"

_I don't know, maybe not dying young? _However, Abraxas kept his thoughts to himself. He had been broken when Leila died, though neither of his parents offered many condolences. They had no idea how their friendship had escalated over the few years, and frankly, they wouldn't have cared.

_She's a mudblood, Abraxas. You can't allow yourself to grieve as they come and go._

He had met Kyle once, before he was sent away. Abraxas had learned that his father had left Leila right after Kyle was born, so it was only she and Kyle left. Leila's mother had agreed to look after the little boy, but she died the previous spring due to heart failure. Abraxas couldn't help but feel bad for Kyle; he had lost everything, and he was alone in the world.

His mind had flashed to the countless hours that he and Leila had spent together, and immediately felt guilty. He had taken away the time where she could've spent with her son. Her _real_ son.

"This is Tom, by the way," Orion said, obviously trying to break the thick atmosphere as Abraxas lost himself in his thoughts. "Tom Riddle."

Tom cocked his head to one side, gauging his reaction. Abraxas knew that he was waiting for him to blurt out something like 'you're not pureblood!' However, he refrained himself from doing so and merely nodded politely. "I'm Abraxas Malfoy."

Tom merely nodded, and then went back to staring out the window. For someone who seemed to be completely new to this process, he seemed rather calm about it. If Abraxas didn't have Gabriel to help him—though he did more harm than good—he would've been freaking out right now. Speaking of brothers…

"Where's Cygnus?" He asked Orion.

"I don't know," Orion shrugged, though there was a hard edge in his voice. "He's probably in some compartment, snogging Violetta." Abraxas shot him a look. "Not that I care, of course. Not at all. They can do whatever they want."

"I'm sure," Abraxas said, and then Orion ignored him. Trying to break the awkward silence, he turned to Tom and asked politely, "Which house do you think you'll be sorted in to?"

Tom looked at him, his eyes calculating. He was obviously not one of the foolish, giggling first years. He was already a force to be reckoned with; Abraxas could tell by his posture and the glint in his eyes. Superiority seemed to be rolling off his body in waves as well. He seemed to be commanding fear as well. However, Abraxas was a Malfoy, and Malfoy _never_ feared anyone who did not have a pureblood status, though he himself had always been less prejudice than his family.

Abraxas seemed to pass his test, as the corner of Tom's mouth twitched upwards. It wasn't quite a grin, but it was quite different from his usual, blank face. "Slytherin," Tom said in a cold voice. "It's the best house."

"Glad to see we're on the same page," Abraxas said, right as the compartment door opened. Orion stiffened as a girl with curly black hair came in, followed by a pug faced girl with short, black hair. The curly hair girl froze when she saw Orion, while her friend gaped with her mouth wide open, staring in shock at Tom.

"Wallie," Orion said, the name ringing bells in Abraxas's head. "How nice of you to join us."

"Wallie" sniffed loudly, but her words were overshadowed by her friend's stammering. She was approaching Tom slowly, the boy having an amused expression on his face. "H-hi." She said breathlessly, as if she had just been running a mile. Abraxas doubted that the train was even close to half a mile long.

"Hello," Tom said pleasantly, a smile instantly in place. So he was an actor as well, as he? _Guess he didn't even bother putting on a mask for us. _"What brings a lovely girl like you to our compartment?"

The girl flushed, though Tom was laying it rather thick. Wallie had flounced over to join her friend. Abraxas looked over at Orion, who was discretely pretending to be sick. They shared an amused glance, something that they would've never been caught doing the last time they met.

"I was just looking for my cousin," Wallie spoke up. She, like her friend, had turned a shade of red. The color clashed horribly with her hair, though Tom either didn't notice or chose to ignore it. "I-I'm Walburga Black."

"And I'm Tracey Parkinson," the other girl jumped in. "It's nice to meet you." She eyed him curiously. "Which family are you from? You look like you can be a Bulstrode with that complexion, though…" she trailed off, biting her lip. "The Bulstrode has a sickly girl, don't they?"

"Violetta is not sickly," Orion muttered angrily under his breath, clenching his fists. Walburga heard him, and shot him a gleeful smile. Clearly, Violetta was not the most popular around the Black household.

"No, I am not a Bulstrode," Tom said pleasantly, though there was a hard edge to his voice now. Even though both Walburga and Tracey did not seem to be the smartest people in the world, they could easily recognize that 'Riddle' wasn't a wizard name. It was hard to get in to Slytherin without being pureblooded, but Tom had seemed so sure of himself that Abraxas gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Tom was saved from answering when Orion glanced out the window. "We're almost at Hogwarts," he announced. "So we'll have to change." He smiled sweetly at Tracey, as if saying he wasn't going to lose to Tom. "The two of you should go outside, or you'll see things you might not want to see."

"Oh!" Tracey's face grew redder, if possible. "We don't mind, do we, Walburga? We can-"

"Absolutely not," Walburga dragged Tracey out by her robes. "That's my _cousin_ you're talking about. That's just disgusting. No need to look for his non-existence manly parts."

Ouch.

ஐ

"Cygnus Black,"

After the long speech by Dippet—which was an awful waste of time—everyone in the Great Hall started to watch as the first years were sorted. This process was tedious and slow as well. He didn't see the purpose of having them all go up there slowly to put a tattered hat on their heads. Maybe it was a special experience for some people, but it was a waste of time for him.

Orion's brother headed up to the front. His nose had grown slightly longer, and he had grew his hair out. He still looked quite like Orion, though his eyes were more guarded than they were before. That was the reaction he had expected from Orion as well, after their mother's disappearance, but they seemed to have opposite thoughts on how they should handle the situation.

Abraxas spotted Violetta sitting up in front, biting her nails nervously. Cygnus gave her a small smile—which the crowd thought was directed towards them, and some even _squealed_—before the hat was dropped on top of his head. It barely touched it before it screamed, "_SLYTHERIN!_" A small round of applause arose from the Slytherin table as Cygnus made his way towards it, though not before shooting Violetta a look Abraxas couldn't comprehend.

Orion was sorted in to Slytherin as well, and whispers could be heard around the room. "_Of course the Blacks go to Slytherin." "I don't know why they even bothered getting sorted—they obviously know which house they're going to." "They are all exact mirrors of each other, aren't they?" _

Abraxas knew that his surname gave away which house he should go to, but he couldn't help but wonder if he should purposely try to get in to another house, just to prove himself. _Not_ that it would do any good, though, seeing how his parents would immediately disown him. Plus, he was a Slytherin through and through. He tripped a boy purposely, sending him in to a lake (though he had swam after him and apologized), he had stole a girl's teddy bear and lost it (though he had replaced it with a bigger and better one), and he had broke a boy's computer (though he had sent out for the best people there were out there to fix it.) Okay, so maybe he wasn't the harshest of Slytherins, but he knew he belonged there.

Violetta, though, was different.

When Abraxas had first met her, when he was just five, he knew that she was innocent. Maybe it was her statue, or just her face. She definitely did not look like the type of person who would belong in Slytherin. She didn't look like she could hurt a fly, intentionally nor purposely. She got up shakily when her name was called and headed up to where Dumbledore was holding the hat kindly. Tracey was whispering to Walburga loudly, and Abraxas wondered how she knew that Violetta was 'sickly.' Walburga didn't seem like the type of person neither Orion nor Cygnus confided in.

The hat sat on Violetta's hat for quite awhile, and her eyes were squeezed shut. His gaze wandered over to the Black brothers, both of them sitting together, looking equally nervous. When the hat shouted, "_SLYTHERIN!_" much to the surprise of all the other students, Orion's sigh of relief was audible above the polite clapping, and Cygnus caused quite a scene by pulling her in to his lap and hugging her in front of everyone. (It did cause quite a lot of girls to start crying about their lost love.)

Abraxas watched idly as more people went up. He wasn't really interested in anyone for awhile, as Tom would come after him. A boy, who evidently blew something up on the train flashed by. A girl with flaming red hair that might as well have been a relative of the Weasley's went up. Abraxas tuned himself out, tapping his fingers against his knee.

"Abraxas Malfoy."

Whispers started in the ground again as Abraxas stood up. Slytherin seemed to be the only house where all the people of a particular surname went to. The Weasley's were an exception, though he supposed they were an exception in everything.

The hat shouted "_SLYTHERIN!_" as soon as it touched his head, hardly even thinking, so maybe he wasn't as different as he thought he was. Orion moved over to make him room at the table, and that was that.

Tracey Parkinson, the flirty pug faced girl was also sorted in to Slytherin. She plopped down across from him and kicked his foot throughout the rest of the Sorting Ceremony, shooting him what he thought were cute glances. Abraxas mainly ignored her, moving his foot out of her reach. However, she misunderstood it as he was playing hard to get, and her smile only got wider. He had no idea in what alternate planet kicking feet was considered attractive, but Tracey seemed to be living there.

Tom was called up, and Tracey immediately frowned at his last name. There was no doubt that she was now deciding whether his blood status or looks mattered more to her. The room fell silent, and girls and boys alike gaped at him. Tom, Abraxas thought, seemed confident enough. However, he glared at Dumbledore before he sat down, and Dumbledore's look wasn't as kind as it was with the other students as he placed the hat on Tom's head.

The wait seemed agonizingly long. Tom sat perfectly still the whole time. Tracey turned to Walburga, who was sitting next to her, and whispered, "I can't believe they made the hat so big! Now I can't even stare at his eyes while he's sitting there." Abraxas guessed that she grew bored of kicking him and moved on to bigger and better things—_not _that he minded.

When the hat finally announced Slytherin, Abraxas had no doubt that every girl in the Great Hall wept—some tears of happiness, some of sadness. It was quite easily to get some of the pureblood Slytherins to forget their prejudice, wasn't it? Just get some pretty face to walk by and they grovel on their knees.

Tom sat down across from Orion, which also happened to be next to Tracey. The girl look thrilled and sat as close to him as possible without receiving the disproving glances of the professors. Tom, Abraxas noticed, was ignoring Tracey and eating neatly. He didn't seem bothered by the whispers around him. While the girls crowded around, no doubt to check him out, some of the other boys weren't as lenient with him.

"Riddle?" The boy next to Gabriel hissed. It was Avery, and he was regarding Tom with a menacing look. Tom lifted his head from his food and stared at Avery with cold eyes. "What kind of surname is Riddle? This school is corrupt," he declared. "Wait till my mother hears that there's a _mudblood_ in Slytherin."

Tom, who hadn't lost composure yet in front of Abraxas, tightened his hands in to fists. The look in his eyes was enough to freeze hell over. However, Avery just laughed and sat back comfortably. "You don't scare me, mudblood," he snarled at him. "There's nothing you can do to me."

It took approximately three seconds in to the DADA class the next day for Tom to send Avery flying in to a wall. It took just another round of cursing to make Avery follow him like a puppy.

ஐ

"First years aren't supposed to be trying out," Orion said, looking around. The second Abraxas had heard about the Quidditch tryouts, he had owled his parents, telling them to send him his broomstick. He had left it at home, because he thought there was no chance that he was going to be allowed to tryout. However, out of the seven players on the team, five of them graduated. The Slytherin team was in desperate need of people, so they grudgingly allowed the first years to tryout.

"Half the people trying out are first years," Abraxas pointed out. The two remaining Slytherin players—a small chaser and a bulky beater—were orchestrating everything, trying to call over the noise the crowd was making.

"True," Orion nodded, and then turned towards Abraxas. "Do you think I'm going to make it?"

Abraxas laughed. "If you fly anywhere close to what you've been telling me, you have no problem, Black."

A girl broke free from the crowd, saw the two of them standing alone, and bustled over. She would've been pretty, if she hadn't been wearing that scowl on her face. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail.

"Can you believe it?" She said angrily. "They allow first years to tryout, but we have to do it in triplets. They don't want to waste too much time with us."

"We're doing it in _triplets_?" Orion said, his eyes wide. "I thought it was about individual skills."

"It is. They're just evaluating everyone at once." She pointed to where six people were prepared to take off. "It's like Queen of the court. Whoever loses gets kicked off, and if you win, you get to stay there and show off more." She paused. "You can either sign up in a ground that has no seeker or seeker. It affects who you play."

"Guess we all know who I'm pairing up with," Orion said, grinning. "Because you begged me so nicely. Why do you always need me to protect you, Abraxas? Can't you find someone else?"

Abraxas rolled his eyes. "If you want to pair up with someone else, go ahead. I won't mind."

"Too bad," Orion replied cheekily. "You're stuck with me now."

The girl cleared her throat, and they turned to look at her. "Would you mind pairing up with me as well?" She asked. "Assuming that neither one of you is a keeper."

They looked at each other, and Orion shrugged. "Sure," he said. "I'm a chaser, and Abraxas here is a seeker, though I bet he isn't any good." Abraxas sent him a surly look. Orion, however, was busy shifting through his personalities. He winked at the girl and said, "May I inquire what your name is, pretty lady?"

The girl laughed, and flushed slightly. "Does that line really work on most people?" she said, and Orion shrugged, clearly not caring that she wasn't swooning. Maybe he had enough swooning girls for a lifetime. "I'm Eleanor," she introduced herself. "Eleanor Bletchey."

"Well, then, Eleanor Bletchey," Orion said. "Let's sign up before all the good spots are taken," he dragged her away, leaving Abraxas standing in the dust. He was about to go after him when he felt someone poke him in the shoulder.

It was Tom. Abraxas looked at him, and the boy gave him a small smirk. "What are you doing here?" Abraxas inquired, noticing his lack of broom. "You aren't trying out, are you?" Somehow, he couldn't imagine Tom flying.

Tom shook his head. Abraxas had gotten to know him—as well as Cygnus and Orion—better over the past few weeks. They had lengthy discussions in their shared dormitory every day, though it was mostly Orion talking. It was nice to listen, though, and Abraxas found himself looking forward to their dormitory meetings.

Tom had established himself not only as the halfblood—he had corrected Avery right after he cursed him for the fifth time in two days—but as one of the most genius students Hogwarts had ever seen. It had only been a couple of weeks, and already he seemed to have the intellectual level of some of the fifth and sixth years. And yet, Abraxas had never seen him pick up a pencil to do any work that wasn't homework, and when he did do his homework, he procrastinated like crazy.

"I'm here on Tracey's request," Tom said smoothly. "She wanted to accompany Walburga, who was coming to cheer on Avery and Lestrange," there was a hard edge when he spoke of the latter two boys. He then glanced down at his arm. "It seems like she's finally let go of me."

Abraxas couldn't help but snicker.

"I can see you are trying out," Tom said. "I think I'll go sit in the stands and cheer you on. Maybe throw a few tomatoes are two at you."

"What about tomatoes?" Orion was back, still dragging Eleanor behind him. "Oh, hey Tom. Didn't expect to see you here today." Eleanor noticed him as well, and nodded politely, which was returned. Eleanor must've been the first girl Abraxas had met at this school that wasn't crazy about Tom. Or maybe she was just better at hiding it.

"Potatoes would work better," Abraxas informed him. "Chuck them at Black's head. It's super effective."

Tom smirked again. "Duly noted." Orion looked like he wanted to hit Abraxas on the head with his broom, when they were called up to the field. Tom nodded, and walked away, no doubt to prepare some potatoes to throw at them during the tryouts.

The beater was staring at a clipboard, and looked up when they walked over. "Malfoy, Bletchey and Black?" They nodded. "Seeker, keeper and chaser?" They nodded once more. The beater made a mark on the paper, before he looked over at Abraxas, scrunching his nose. "No offense, but your name's rather unusual. Abrasauch?"

Abraxas blinked, and then glared at Orion. The boy held his hands up. "I didn't know how to spell it!" He protested, before adding, "And maybe I was hungry and was thinking about the sauce we had for dinner yesterday."

"I wouldn't spell _your_ name wrong!" Abraxas said hotly.

"That's because my name is easy to spell," Orion shot back. "How was I supposed to know that your name has an 'x' in it?"

"Because it's common—" Abraxas trailed off, narrowing his eyes. "How do you know I have an 'x' in my name? I didn't tell you." Orion gulped, realizing his slipup. "You did this on purpose!" Abraxas accused him. "You have a weird sense of humor, Black."

Orion opened his mouth again, but Eleanor cut him off. "Um, guys?" She gestured towards the beater, who was watching the exchange with a smirk on his face. "Can we fight later? The other team is waiting."

Indeed they were. From the looks of things, they were older students, maybe around third year. From the looks on their faces, they seemed quite sure that they were going to beat them soundly. Well, not if he had any say about that. As long as Eleanor and Orion didn't give up too many points, the game would be in his hands. He was the one who was going to catch the snitch.

Orion seemed to realize this, because he reached over to pat Abraxas on the back. "Don't mess up," he advised cheerfully.

"Thanks," Abraxas said. "Your confidence in me is astounding."

Orion grinned. "I won't be offended if you don't catch the snitch, though I'll be disappointed in you for the rest of your life. You don't want that, do you?" Abraxas rolled his eyes. "Moral of the story, catch the snitch and we'll all be fine."

"Ready?" The chaser was the referee, looking at both teams with a bored look on his face. Abraxas guessed that it was quite boring after awhile to watch a bunch of people flying around on brooms. As much as he loved Quidditch, it wasn't something _he'd_ want to do either. Abraxas would rather be the one flying.

Abraxas glanced back at Eleanor, who nodded at him. He then glanced over at Orion, who mouthed '_If we lose, I'm going to kill you.' _Trying to prevent himself from grinning, he looked over at the other team, who was looking bored. They seemed to think that just because they were first years meant they couldn't play.

_I'll show you._

The chaser blew the whistle, and six players kicked off. Abraxas spotted Tom in the stands, a bag filled with unknown objects on the floor next to him. He smirked at it. Tracey, it appeared, had found her way back to Tom and was now once again latched to his arm. Tom noticed him looking and raised his free hand in a mock wave. Tracey winked at him.

"ABRAXAS," Orion roared, speeding towards the quaffle. "Do you _have _to ogle at Tom in the middle of the tryouts?"

Abraxas would've flown over and smacked him if he didn't see the other seeker drop in to a dive. The crowd started cheering. Abraxas spotted it and dropped in to a dive as well. Even though he started slower than the other seeker, the snitch was closer to him. The yellow ball was growing bigger and bigger by the second, and Abraxas reached out his hand, as he had done so many times in his life…

The other boy crashed in to him, nearly knocking him off his broom. Abraxas slipped off it, but managed to climb back up. The chaser blew his whistle, signaling a foul. Orion cast him a worried look, but headed towards the foul spot. The other seeker caught his eye and mouthed, '_Totally worth it.'_

Abraxas flew shakily to Eleanor, who looked at him in concern. "Are you alright?" She asked. "I would've thought you would have fallen off before that. That dive was rather risky."

"You're underestimating my skills," Abraxas said, rubbing his left arm. "That hurt. It's just tryouts. Did he have to play it rough?"

"Some people are just insane," Eleanor shrugged, and then pushed him forward. "Go on. Orion's just hit his free throws, so we're up 90-10." She smirked as Abraxas gaped at her. "I think you're underestimating our skills as well. Just focus on the snitch."

Abraxas flew up again, being sure to put as much distance between he and the other seeker as possible, while still keeping his eye out on him at the same time. He did occasionally glance down at his teammates and had to admit that Eleanor had been right; he _was_ underestimating their skills. Orion flew crazily, but it confused his opponents enough to let him score. Eleanor was graceful, blocking the quaffle like it was a reflex. He could spot the ref smiling at the two of them. They had obviously proven themselves. Now it was his turn to prove himself.

He spotted the snitch them. It was right below him, and he dropped down in a dive. The other seeker noticed and started going for it as well. It was close, but evidently, he was the one who was going to get it. He was closer. However, the other seeker was the same height as the snitch; Abraxas was dropping down. It was considerably more risky. The other seeker seemed to notice as well, as he slowed down his broom considerably. If Abraxas ever slowed down, the other seeker would be the one to get the snitch. If Abraxas didn't slow down, he would crash in to the field. The snitch wasn't up high enough.

Abraxas didn't slow down.

The other seeker's eyes widened when he saw that Abraxas wasn't slowing, and held his hands up, as if saying, '_If you think you can keep the snitch in your hand after you hit the ground, be my guest.' _It was crazy, Abraxas knew. Doing it on his Quidditch pitch at home was very different than doing it in public. But he had practiced it so many times it came to him easily, almost as easily as breathing.

Abraxas reached out his hand again for the snitch, closing his hand around the golden ball. Then he twisted upwards, his leg skimming painfully against the ground before he was airborne again. He wobbled a bit, not as graceful as he had hoped for, but the snitch was securely in his hand. The ref blew his whistle, and the game was over.

Orion barreled towards him and hugged him, nearly knocking both of them off their broom. Eleanor flew over as well, planting two kisses on his cheeks, which was then followed by Orion's wolf whistle. That was promptly cut off when Tom delivered his promise—two unpeeled potatoes came flying out of nowhere and hit Orion in the back of the head. Orion sputtered and glared at a smirking Tom, but even that didn't dampen their moods. And nothing could beat the moment when they landed on the ground again, and the beater smiled at them and said,

"Welcome to the team."

Abraxas would remember that moment for the rest of his life.

ஐ

"That's it?" Hermione asked him, looking at Abraxas. When he nodded, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd end it with making it on the Quidditch team. I take it that your second, third and fourth years weren't as interesting?"

"No," Abraxas said offhandedly. "Unless you were interested hearing in every victory I helped earn."

Hermione laughed softly. "It's nice to hear about that," she said. "Everyone seemed so small and innocent at the time. Even…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

"Tom?" Abraxas offered helpfully. Hermione nodded. "No, I don't think Tom was ever innocent. He just liked to have fun more. He still does, though he's better at hiding it," he glanced at Hermione. "Do you know it was his idea to join you in the snowball fight a couple weeks ago?"

Hermione nodded, and then grimaced. "You shouldn't talk about that," she said gently. "It was a bad day for you."

"Ah, well, I'm getting rather used to this place." Abraxas gestured around his cell. "It's not much, but I'm starting to think of it as home. Funny because the smallest room in the Manor is about ten times this size. Speaking of the Manor…I wonder if my parents heard about me yet." He had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Do you want them to know?" Hermione asked.

Abraxas shrugged. "On one hand, I do. I want visitors." He caught the look on her face. "Of course, I appreciate you being here. You have no idea how much this means to me. But I also want to see some of my family, or…" He looked away. "Never mind."

"Black?" Hermione asked. When Abraxas didn't say anything, she continued, "Did it make you feel better when you talked about him? Or did it just hurt more?"

"Well, of course it hurts," Abraxas said. "I skipped the later years, but that was when my friendship with him really escalated. I can't believe he would just refuse to believe me like this."

"Why don't you tell me about that?" Hermione asked helpfully. "It might help if you got it out of your system."

Abraxas looked at her skeptically. "You want to hear about how we went skinny dipping in the river during the winter? Or do you want to hear about this one night during the summer where we went to a club and got so drunk that we woke up in a pile of—"

"Nope," Hermione cut him off. "I'm fine with not hearing."

Abraxas smirked. "Thought so."

They sat in silence for awhile, before Hermione asked, "Is that why you were willing to talk to me?" She asked. Abraxas raised an eyebrow. "Did I remind you of your friend? Of Leila?"

"Oh. That." He raked a hand through his hair. "I suppose you originally did. You had the same occupation, had the same brown hair, though I have to say hers is a lot neater than yours." Hermione scowled at him. "Though you two are completely different. Leila was an actual maid. She knew what it meant to be one. While you," he looked at her. "I don't know where you learned this from, but you _never_ talk back."

"I don't know where you learned this from, but you're also not supposed to friend your servants," Hermione shot back hotly.

"There's no rule about that," Abraxas said swiftly. "And would you rather I didn't?"

Hermione shrugged. "I guess not."

"I guess not?" Abraxas grinned. "I befriended you out of the _goodness_ of my heart," here, Hermione snorted, which Abraxas ignored. "And you give me a 'I guess not.'"

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Hermione gestured around. "I would've thought that counted for something."

"It does," Abraxas sighed. "I hope I can get out soon. Or that they declare me guilty. I think even conviction is better than this."

"I thought you said that this was becoming more and more like home," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And don't talk like that. You're not guilty, so you shouldn't plead guilty."

Abraxas sighed again, and he suddenly looked like the five year old that he had told her about. He looked scared and vulnerable. "I just want to go home," he said tiredly. "I don't want to stay here anymore."

"Don't worry," she patted his hand reassuringly. "I'll get you home. Even if it's the last thing I do."


	18. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: **Another chapter is done! Finals are coming up, so past this point, the chapters might be updated at a slower rate. We'll see. Though, finals mean summer, so I guess it's something to look forward to.

* * *

><p>Rita's bizarre story was published three days later, and was brought to her attention curtsey of Tracey. The girl had been the first one to see it at breakfast, and within seconds, had shrieked so loudly that the whole school knew. Hermione stared down in horror as she watched the picture her trying to kiss Tom.<p>

Tom, as usual, seemed to enjoy the whole thing.

"Why, Hermione," he had said on day at breakfast. "If you wanted to kiss me so much, you could've just asked."

She didn't know why she still bothered with him.

The story had blown over in a couple of days, but Tracey didn't hesitate to point it out every moment that she could. The girl brought it up every time the two of them had an argument—which was quite often—as if Hermione would be embarrassed once she saw it. She wasn't. Rita Skeeter could write whatever she wanted, and if there was anyone who should be embarrassed, it should be Rita.

She went down to Gringiotts, as she did often. She was seeing Abraxas every day now, much to the dismay of Black. She didn't know what his problem was; he seemed to be angry for the sake of being angry. Cygnus got over it—telling her he was only angry because she had made Black angry. He, however, avoided visiting Gringiotts, saying that the place made Violetta uncomfortable. They both wrote notes and gave it to her to deliver though.

Black claimed he was angry because she insulted Walburga—she got that; they were cousins, after all, though Black rarely showed it—but it did not account to why he was so furious with Abraxas. Maybe he believed Abraxas betrayed him, but it was really a weird way to go about showing it. _Especially_ when this was Black that they were talking about.

She got to Abraxas's cell one sunny afternoon and nearly had a heart attack. She sprinted towards the guard, who stared at her in distaste as she panted, trying to catch her breath. "Where is he?" She rasped. "Where did you take him?"

The guard looked down at her. "Who?"

"The boy, in cell two," she said. "He's gone." As if to emphasize her point, she drew a little cube with her hands and waved it back and forth. "Gone."

Realization dawned the guard's face. "Yes, he was cleared today. He left earlier, accompanied by Professor Dumbledore." He squinted at the clock. "I'd have to say it was about ten minutes ago. If you had come a little earlier, you would've saw them on your way in."

"What? _How?_"

The guard blinked. "Professor Dumbledore said that a young man came with decisive evidence that Mister Malfoy was not the criminal. I apologize, Miss, but I do not know any more details. You'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore if you want any more information."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. She thanked the guard quickly, and sprinted to Hogwarts in record time. Abraxas had been _cleared_? Not that she wasn't happy, but who could've possibly cleared him? From what Abraxas said to her, they hadn't even done any tests on his memory. Why was he cleared then?

Before she even got in to the castle, she spotted five figures on the field. Two of them were standing quite close together. _They just couldn't wait to start a brawl, could they?_

Violetta was sitting away from the group, her face full of concern. It was obvious that she was not a fan of violence. Cygnus looked torn; he looked like he wanted to go comfort her, but also wanted to restrain Black at the same time. Black was in Abraxas's face, and though Abraxas clearly looked like he didn't want to fight, Black certainly looked like he did. Tom, as usual, was doing nothing helpful. He was observing the situation, an amused smirk on his face.

"Hermione," he drawled when he saw her. "How nice of you to join us."

She ignored him and threw herself at Black as he prepared to punch Abraxas. They toppled to the ground, Hermione landing on top of him. "What are you _doing_?" She screeched at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Squirtle?" Black blinked slowly, and then grinned up at her. "Hey, what are you doing up there? If you wanted to get down with me, all you needed to do was ask."

She ignored him. "Why were you going to punch Abraxas?" She asked angrily. "I know you feel betrayed about all of this, but this is taking it a little too far, isn't it? Look at him," she pointed to Abraxas, who was staring at her in amazement. "He just got cleared, and this is what you do to him?"

Black looked at her in confusion. "Did you hit your head or something?" He looked around. "Hey, there's snow! When did it start snowing? It's early this year, isn't it? Though I suppose snowing in November isn't too bad." He grinned at her. "Want to have a snowball fight with me, Squirtle?"

Hermione's jaw dropped and she was speechless. Thankfully, Cygnus came to the rescue, eyeing his brother. "What's the date?" He asked.

"What am I, your calendar?" Black asked. "It's November 28th, of course."

_November 28__th__. The day Daisy was killed and Erica fell in to coma. The day Abraxas was accused of murder. _

Abraxas seemed to recognize as well. "That was the day…" he trailed off, looking at Hermione, his eyes wide. "What's going on here?"

"I think I should be the one who's asking that question," Black called from his spot on the floor. "I'm so confused right now. Why are we all on the field, and why is Squirtle on top of me?"

"This is bad," Hermione looked over at Tom, who just shrugged. It looked like she wasn't going to be getting any help from _him_, though that had been expected. "Black's been possessed by someone since the day of the incident." She frowned. "We need to talk to Dumbledore."

"Your inner Gryffindor is showing, Squirtle," Black said. "And as much as I like this position, I don't think Tom likes it too much." He smirked up at her. Hermione realized she was still sitting on top of him, and got up, apologizing profusely.

"Inner Gryffindor?" Hermione blinked. "I do _not_ have an inner Gryffindor."

"Maybe your Gryffindor friends do this," Black continued as if he hadn't heard her. "But we do not go running to Dumbledore. Especially not Tom here," Black gestured towards him. Tom was wearing a scowl at the mention of the Transfiguration professor.

"Well, I certainly am not going to tell Dippet about this. I might as well go and talk to a wall."

"Harsh," Black whistled.

Hermione ignored him, whirling around to face Abraxas. "Either you come with me to Dumbledore, or you risk getting thrown back in jail. Your pick."

Abraxas cast an apologetic look at Tom, and then his eyes hardened at Black. Black suddenly looked like a beat up puppy, casting his eyes downwards. Hermione knew that if the facts that presented to them were true, then it wasn't Black's fault at all. However, it had to have hurt Abraxas listening to his friend reject him like that. "I'll come with you. I don't ever want to go back there." He shuddered.

"Look—Abraxas…" Black said, shuffling around uncomfortably. "I don't know exactly what happened, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm sorry." He gave a shaky laugh. "Shit, I'm so screwed up."

Hermione frowned at his language, but Abraxas just looked at his friend. "No, it's okay," he said. "I just need some time to sort things out. I think we all do."

"Yeah," Black said, and then announced loudly. "I need to get drunk."

"Black!" Hermione hissed, looking around worriedly. To her relief, she saw no one else in sight, besides Violetta and Cygnus, who were sitting a couple feet away from them. They were whispering softly to each other, but looking at the group at the same time.

Black looked appalled. "What?"

"You can't just go announcing that. You could be expelled. It's in the rules book. Rule seven hundred thirty nine." She frowned when he started laughing. "What?"

"You could be expelled," Black repeated in his imitation of her voice, which was high and squeaky. "It's in the rules book. Of course you'd know that, Squirtle."

"Don't make fun of me," She scowled at him, but was secretly happy that Black was back to his normal self. To be honest, seeing him angry had been…strange. She had seen him sad before—when he was recalling his past—but never angry, and especially not at Abraxas. She wondered why she didn't figure it out beforehand.

She also wondered what was the purpose of putting Abraxas in jail only to have him come out a couple weeks later.

Hermione turned towards Abraxas, who nodded. "Alright, we'll be going now," she said, waving at them. Black offered her a cheery grin, but Tom was still staring at her quietly, like she had grown two heads. Her smile faded, and she looked at him anxiously. "What is it?"

He cocked his head to one side and studied her for awhile, and then smirked. Before she had a chance to comprehend what was happening, his lips crashed on to hers. Before she could say anything, he already pulled away and was heading towards Hogsmeade. "I'm going to get some Firewhiskey," he announced.

Black grinned as Hermione's hand drifted lightly over her mouth and she glared at Tom's retreating back. Black shot off to catch up with Tom. Abraxas, who looked like he was determinedly trying to ignore the kiss, called out, "Look after Black,"

"Look after Black?" Tom asked, barely turning around. "If you recall, Abraxas, I was under the Imperius last time."

"Somehow, I highly doubt it'll happen again," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Just fight it off," Abraxas said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And maybe it was; it _was_ Tom they were dealing with after all. She doubt it settled well with him when he was cursed last time.

Black turned around and stuck his tongue out. "I don't need a babysitter!"

And then they were gone.

"Come on," Abraxas tugged on her arm gently. She allowed him to pull her away. "We better get going." Hermione offered a nod and a small smile to Violeta and Cygnus, who were smearing snow on each other. They seemed too engrossed in each other to notice, and Hermione let them be.

She had spent so much time in Gringiotts, she didn't have the chance to play in the snow with Nick yet. She was going to have to ask him to come out with her later. It was there tradition to lie down next to each other and make snow angels. Of course, that tradition had went down the drain for five years, but it was never too late to start again.

"Wow," Abraxas breathed when they were back in the castle. He was looking at everything, soaking it in with his eyes. "Do you see that lamp? Since when was it so light? And look, the ceiling is enchanted. It's really pretty. Oh, there's armor over there. Look, it moved!" A pause. "Nope, just kidding. It's just a rat."

Hermione giggled. "Abraxas. You've been in this school for almost five years now."

"Uh huh."

"And you've only been gone for two weeks."

"Yeah."

"And _nothing_ has changed since you were last here."

Abraxas's smile fell. "Yeah, I know," he sighed. "It's just that the prison cell was plain, and it's nice to see some decoration, okay?"

She knew she had offended him. Damn her stupid, big mouth, always saying things she didn't mean. "I'm sorry," she apologized, sheepishly, but a quick nod and a hand squeeze from Abraxas told her that she had been forgiven.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, looking up when the two of them entered his Transfiguration office. He had been looking over some papers, but he put them down and beamed at them as they came in. "Mister Malfoy. I was expecting the two of you, though earlier."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said, sitting down. Abraxas did the same. For him to be willing to follow her to Dumbledore's classroom when it was obvious Abraxas didn't like him too much must have meant that he really felt grateful. "We got held up on the fields."

Dumbledore nodded. "I suppose you were wondering why Mister Malfoy is here instead of the prison cell." He paused, and then held something out to them. "Lemon drop?"

"Yes Professor, I was wondering." She shook her head to decline the lemon drop. Abraxas did the same. Dumbledore shrugged and plopped one of the hard candies in to his mouth. "Though I'm not complaining or anything."

Next to her, Abraxas muttered teasingly under his breath, "You better not be."

Dumbledore chuckled, watching their exchange with twinkling eyes. "Mister Malfoy has been cleared from all suspicions," he said, though his face grew troubled. "There was someone who helped fix his tampered memories."

Abraxas frowned. "And why don't I remember this?"

"You were asleep," Dumbledore explained. "Had you been awake, we would've done it anyway, but the guard informed us that you had been sleeping for forty two hours straight, so we didn't want to wait until you woke up. We didn't know when that would be."

"And who is this someone?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. If Dumbledore wasn't able to solve it after two weeks, how could someone random come and solve it in such a short amount of time?

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, I did not catch his name before he left. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt, though we have suspicions that it was someone polyjuiced as him as we found the real Kingsley's body in the bathroom later."

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked. Her father had mentioned Shacklebolt before, saying that he was a respected Auror. For such words to come out of her father's mouth had to mean that they were true. Her father almost never complimented anyone.

There was only one time that her father had complimented _her_, and the memory that came with it was painful and it made bile rise up Hermione's throat. She quickly shoved it out of her mind.

"Yes. Kingsley is fine. A little shaken up, but no serious damage." He then frowned. "That, however, is more than I can say for two of you. I fear you may be in more danger than you suspect. The imposter managed to find out for us that Mister Malfoy's memories were tampered so that he would believe that he was at the window, waving to you." This indeed sounded like the story Abraxas told her the day he was taken away. "It later turns out that you were following your brother, Mister Malfoy, before you were attacked."

Abraxas blinked. "Gabriel? Why was I following him?"

"You thought he was acting strange," Dumbledore explained. "You found him pacing in an empty hallway. However, I cannot say what happens after that, because the next memory you have is you back in your room."

"That's creepy," Abraxas said, and Hermione shot him an exasperated look. Of course it was creepy. What else would it be? "Have you talked to Gabriel yet?"

"Yes, he is currently in custody," Dumbledore nodded. "You may see him as soon as we're done questioning him." Relief was evident on Abraxas's face.

"There is, however, one big gaping hole," Dumbledore continued. _Oh, I can think of several. _"Assuming that the imposter was also the one who tampered with Abraxas's memories in the first place—seeing how he fixed it easily when well trained wizards were struggling—it serves no strategic purpose to place Mister Malfoy in jail, only to have him removed a couple of weeks later without getting anything out of it."

"Why would they want to hurt me, anyway?" Abraxas frowned. "If it was because of house rivalries, then this is going too far."

"Don't you go blaming this on Ron," Hermione said. "You have no proof."

"I wasn't blaming it on Weasley," Abraxas said, looking appalled. "I was merely saying that—"

"Don't lie. I could see it in your eyes. You were referring to Ron." Abraxas scowled, but didn't deny it. Hermione knew that out of all the Gryffindors, it was Ron that Abraxas really held strong hate feelings for. Nick, however, was a close second, though she didn't know what _he_ did to get Abraxas to hate him. Maybe it was just because of the fact that he was friends with Ron. She glanced sheepishly at Dumbledore. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It is alright, Miss Granger. I assume that after being away from Mister Malfoy for so long, you would want to exchange some words with him," his eyes twinkled. "Though I can't say you've been away from him for very long. You seemed to have spent as much time down in the cell as he did."

Hermione blushed, but Abraxas blurted out, "Please, Professor, don't punish her. She didn't mean to miss class. It was because of me."

Hermione only blinked at him. "I didn't miss class. I only went when I had a free."

Abraxas looked confused. "You visited me during the week, Hermione. You don't have that much time to go to Diagon Alley and then back, even if you did have the free."

"You underestimate me," Hermione said. "I finished the assignments for homework the day before, and handed them in. Most of the teachers let me leave, though not of them were that understanding." Abraxas rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like '_smart know-it-all' _under his breath. She ignored him and looked towards Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir, for letting me visit him."

"It's no problem, Miss Granger. Young friendship…I still can remember mine." Hermione wondered if he was thinking about her father. She could never picture either of them with friends, though it looked like the two of them obviously knew each other.

"And sir? One last question," She hated to interrupt him from his memories, but she had one last thing she needed to ask about. "Black—Orion, that is—appears to have some work done on him as well. The last thing he remembers is November 28th, which is also the day that this whole fiasco started."

"Yes," Dumbledore mused. "I thought as much. Never have I seen Mister Black so angry with the world. May I inquire how you finally got him back to himself again?"

Hermione frowned and thought back. "He was picking a fight with Abraxas, so I pushed him back without thinking. I ended up pushing him to the ground."

"I think it was the force of the fall," Dumbledore said. "I must admit that after trying spells on Mister Black, I did not expect the curse to be severed by a tiny little push. However, that being said, I still do not know which curse it is. I also promise to look in to that, but you must understand that memory tampering and the death of Miss Chang comes before emotion manipulation."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"That is all for today. I will contact you if I find out any more information. If you are targeted once more, come straight to me."

"Thanks, sir," Abraxas said, as the two of them exited the room. The prison must have done a lot to Abraxas. She knew he was less prejudice than a lot of other people, but not _that_ much. Tom, for example, would never have been caught saying anything nice near Dumbledore.

"That didn't go that badly," Hermione said as the two of them headed back to the common room. "Somehow, it sounds a lot less serious when Dumbledore says it."

"But he didn't help us either," Abraxas pointed out. "All he said was that he was going to investigate it. Anyone can investigate. Even _we_ can investigate."

"Great. I'll be seeing you in the library tomorrow before breakfast. Don't give me that look. You're the one that suggested it."

"Do we have to go that early?" Abraxas grumbled. "I was planning on enjoying a real bed."

"As the saying goes, early bird gets the worm."

Abraxas looked baffled. "There are way too many worms in the world. I'm sure there are plenty of them left over for the late birds as well."

Hermione waved him off. "Muggle saying. Don't mind me. You'll be in charge of dragging Black to the library tomorrow, won't you?" Abraxas gave a reluctant nod. "You don't need to do anything about Tom; he gets to the library before _I_ do."

Speaking of Tom…

"Drunk men alert," Abraxas muttered, rolling his eyes as they stepped in to the Slytherin common room. Two figures were draped over the couches. Everyone else was in Hogsmeade, so there was no one else there. One of the figures was chatting away, tipping his head backwards as he put a bottle to his mouth. The other one was watching the fire place crackle quietly. "How far do you think we can get before they notice us?"

"Not very far," Hermione admitted. "If it was just Black, maybe. But since Tom is there as well…I'd say maybe five feet?"

"Yeah," Abraxas agreed reluctantly. "How quietly do you think we can get out of the room, then?" He pointed at the bottles piling up next to Black. "He should be passing out soon. That's his eleventh bottle, I think."

Hermione made a face. "That stuff is strong. I could barely drink a bottle without feeling woozy."

Abraxas laughed. "Black just has an abnormally strong alcohol tolerance, and you have an abnormally low alcohol tolerance. You can't compare the two of you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved him. She hadn't expected him to be so unstable on his feet that he fell over with a loud thump. She groaned as Black's unfocused eyes drifted over, followed by Tom's grey ones.

Abraxas glared at her. "Smooth."

"If anyone is smooth, it's you," Hermione clipped. "I'm not the one who fell over with a little tap."

"Abraxas!" Black bustled over, and before anyone could do anything, he threw himself in Abraxas's arms. He snuggled up, even as Abraxas watched him in shock. "You're back!"

"Yes, I'm back," Abraxas said, trying to pry the boy away from him. "Black, you're drunk. Go sleep it off. Don't do anything you'll regret in the morning."

"Why would I regret this?" Black slurred, and then reached over to ruffle Abraxas's hair. "You're so cute when you're flustered."

Abraxas's jaw dropped. Hermione guessed that this wasn't normal drunk behavior for Black. "I—"

"Squirtle!" Black spotted her and shuffled towards her, and she step sided neatly and he ran in to the wall. It didn't seem to bother him, though, because a second later, she found him embracing her. "You came back to me!"

Hermione eyed him warily, and then turned back towards Tom. "Is he delirious?"

Tom shrugged. "He just lost his self restraint. I had to pry him off the bartender. Tom wasn't happy." He smiled rather eerily. "But then again, he's never liked me."

Hermione knew better than to ask.

"Alright, that's enough," Abraxas pried Black off from her and set him on the couch. "I think someone needs to get some sleep."

"I won't get any sleep if you're here," Black said cheerfully, winking. "If you know what I mean."

Abraxas stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head. "Then I guess I'll just have to leave."

"No!" Black clung on to his arm. "Don't leave me! Please stay. I'll be good. I'll even keep my hands to myself…" he trailed off. "Though, once removed, they will not come back, so you better think long and hard about this."

Hermione smiled; she could definitely see that Black was still in that drunken body. Abraxas sighed, but reluctantly slid in to the seat next to his friend. She was about to join them when she saw Tom beckoning her over.

"Yees?" She said. He smirked at her, and before she could do anything, grabbed her arm and pulled her swiftly in to his lap. "Tom!" She shrieked, though he wound his hands around her waist and would not let go. "Let me go!"

"No," he buried his nose in her hair. "I like your hair. It smells good."

"Lying will not make me want to stay in your lap any more than I do now."

Tom turned his grey eyes towards her. "And do you want to stay in my lap?"

"Do you want me to stay in your lap?" Hermione countered back.

"Of course I do," Tom said easily, as if he were talking about the weather. "It makes it easier to do so many things to you."

"Like cursing me?"

Tom frowned. "I was thinking along the line of talking, though I guess cursing also works." A smirk worked its way up his face. "Want to try it out now?"

"No, I'll pass."

Tom brushed a strand of hair out of her face and twirled it on his finger. "What did the Old Codger say?"

"His name is Dumbledore, Tom." Tom scowled, but didn't say anything. "And he didn't say anything we didn't know yet. Just that we're in danger, and he'll look in to it some more."

"Ever so helpful."

Hermione nudged him gently in the arm. "How many bottles did you drink, anyway?"

"Just one. I have a prefect reputation to uphold," he gave her a devilish grin.

"Didn't stop you before," Hermione pointed out. Tom said nothing, but continued twirling a strand of hair on his finger. They were so close now. Hermione could feel his breath on her skin. He smelled faintly of firewhiskey. She leaned towards him, and he did the same, and they were so close she could almost touch—

A loud yell made her jump back and pull out her wand instinctively. She turned towards the sound.

Abraxas was squirming as Black sat on top of him, giggling gleefully. He must've not gotten over the effects of the emotion manipulating curse. "What the hell?" Abraxas said, trying to push his friend off of him. Black didn't budge. "I thought you said you would keep your hands off of me!"

"I did," Black pointed out. "My lips aren't my hands."

"That doesn't give you the right to _kiss_ me!" Hermione's jaw dropped open, and she started giggling. Tom smirked at her amusement and went back to playing with her hair. Abraxas glared at Hermione. "What are _you_ laughing at?"

"He has a point," Hermione said, eyes tearing up. Black was going to regret that move later. Or maybe he'd just flirt it off. Knowing all the girls in the Slytherin house, if word ever got out, they would say it 'enhanced his beauty.' They really were shallow. "His hands didn't go anywhere near you."

"That's true," Black said, puckering his lips and wounding his arms around Abraxas's neck.

"Black. Get your hands off me."

"My hands aren't on you. They're my arms. See?" He patted them. "Arms."

"I don't care."

"You should care," Black leaned in. "Want to kiss me again?" His eyes lit up. "We should have a kissing party. I'm sure Squirtle wouldn't mind joining in." He gave her a not-so-secretive-wink.

"We certainly will not be having one," Abraxas said. "Now get off me Black, or I will remove you by force." He paused. "Why don't we have a sleeping party? Yes, I quite like that idea."

His suggestion met deaf ears. "Are you going to punish me for being naughty?" Black asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Yes," Abraxas said shortly. "I will tie you to a bed and leave you there until you sleep this…immature mood of yours off. Then in the morning, I will remind you of this in front of everyone to embarrass you."

"But _Abraxas_," Black whined, leaning even closer. Abraxas started to flail desperately, trying with no avail to push Black off of him. He might as well have been trying to push a boulder.

That was how Violetta and Cygnus found them. The two of them were coming down the stairs, laughing at something Violetta said, when they both froze and took in the sight in front of them. Hermione was still perched on Tom's lap, his hand in her hair. Abraxas was struggling to push a cheerfully drunk Black off of him, while the boy planted kisses on his cheek, making cooing sounds.

"Do I want to know?" Violetta asked. Cygnus, however, was staring at his brother with a frown on his face.

"What's wrong with him?" Cygnus demanded, looking at Black. "Why is he giddy? What did you do to him?"

"_I_ didn't do anything," Abraxas gritted his teeth. "If anything, I am the victim here. This," he gestured towards Black, who was squirming around trying to get comfortable. "is an example of why you don't drink almost a dozen bottles of firewhiskeys during school hours."

Cygnus seemed to accept that as an explanation. Black, noticing his brother, bustled over. "Cy!" He yelled in delight. "You came back to—"

Cygnus whipped out his wand before his brother could get anywhere close to him. Black flew back to the couch, landing with a thud, and then fell asleep instantly. "That, Abraxas, is how you deal with my brother when he's drunk."

Abraxas scowled. "He was on top of me. I couldn't reach my wand—"

"Excuses, excuses," Cygnus sighed, pulling open the portrait door. Violetta show Hermione a small grin before following him. She wondered why the two of them weren't in Hogsmeade like everyone else. She wondered why everyone here wasn't in Hogsmeade. Black was usually so enthusiastic about the trip, but he _had_ been under a curse until just thirty minutes ago. Maybe he forgot. "I won't object if you want to go out with him. However, I must warn you that he does tend to have mood swings and—"

"Shut up and get out," Abraxas growled, and Hermione giggled. Cygnus shot Abraxas a half-smirk that resembled his brother's and clambered out of the common room. Black's loud snores soon filled the room. Abraxas eyed him in distaste, but Hermione saw a little bit of softness creep up his eyes.

It was nice to have them both back again.

ஐ

"You shouldn't do that,"

Hermione blinked as Nick frowned down at her. "Do what? Sit at the Gryffindor table? Stuff my face with food? You certainly didn't seem to have a problem with that yesterday. Ron does it all the time as well." She gestured at the redhead, who grinned at her sheepishly.

"No, not that," Nick sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "As much as I enjoy you sitting here, I know it isn't because of my awesome presence that you're here." He gestured towards the Slytherin table, where Tracey was sitting close to Tom, clinging to his arm. "You should just tell her off."

Hermione scowled down at her food. "Can we please not talk about that right now?"

"Nick's right," Ron piped in. "Even though I don't know what you see in that bastard, it's pretty obvious that the two of you are a couple now. So if Parkinson can't see that, you need to tell her to get lost."

A couple? It that what she and Tom were now? The idea was so foreign to her, yet she suspected that Tom had already gone through his share of girlfriends already. The difference between their experience level made her feel insecure.

"Go on," Seamus encouraged gently. "We'll be watching. If things go too badly, I can always blow up my food as a distraction."

"I think you just want me gone from this table," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Aw, you figured us out," Ron laughed. His face grew somber as he threw a glare at the Slytherin table. "Who does he think he is? I would say he's trying to make you jealous, though that's going a little too far. It's more like he's deliberately cheating on you in front of you."

Hermione laughed shakily. "He's Tom Riddle. He can get away with stuff like that."

"That's only because you let him," Ron pointed out.

"Hermione," Nick placed his hand gently on her arm. He was looking at her with his gentle eyes. Someone else she knew also had the same eyes, except they were always full of coldness. That someone else was also the reason she was at Hogwarts right now. "Riddle's not _him_. You don't need to try to earn his love. He needs to earn _yours_." He frowned. "Though you shouldn't need to earn his love either."

"Who is this mysterious _him_?" Seamus questioned.

Both Hermione and Nick ignored him. "So I should just go over there?" Hermione asked, stealing another glance at the Slytherin table. Tom was now speaking to Tracey, and the girl was giggling, almost pushing herself on to his lap. The very same lap, she might add, that _she_ was sitting on only hours ago.

Black seemed to have sobered up, and he was sitting next to Abraxas, joking around. Abraxas seemed to have gotten over Black's earlier behavior, though Hermione didn't miss the way he flinched when Black leaned close to him. There was nothing like having your best friend kiss you, Hermione thought, rather amused. If Nick ever kissed her on the lips, she wouldn't hesitate sending him to the infirmary. She had found out the hard way before that that was exactly what Nick would do as well.

"Yes," Ron said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "While you're at it, throw the stew at Parkinson's face, will you? It makes me mad just looking at it."

Hermione frowned at him, though she completely agreed with him, but before she could say anything, someone poked her on the shoulder and said, "Hey Hermione."

Judging by the look on Nick's face, she could tell exactly who it was.

"Hi Eileen," Hermione nodded towards her fellow dorm mate. Over the last couple of weeks, she and Eileen had grown increasingly apart. Nick still suspected her, though Hermione didn't see how Eileen could go around committing crimes if all she did was lock herself in the library. Hermione had to admit grudgingly with all her visit to Abraxas, Eileen was spending more time than her studying. That would not do. Now that Abraxas was back, she was going to hit the library whenever she had free time.

"Why are you sitting over here?" Eileen cocked her head to one side curiously. "Are you having a dispute with your friends?"

"None of your-"

Hermione elbowed Nick in the ribs, looking at him pointedly before turning back to Eileen. "No. I like sitting over here, though. It's a much different experience than the Slytherin table."

"True," Eileen studied the Slytherin table, where Tom's hand had gone to Tracey's arm. Hermione gritted her teeth. Eileen noticed and shot her an amused grin. "Do you want to get out of here? I'm heading down to the library."

"Sure," Hermione agreed, ignoring the glares Nick was shooting her. "Why don't you go along first? I have some things to take care of first."

Without waiting for Eileen to respond, she was out of her seat and heading over to the Slytherin side of the Great Hall, only faintly registering Ron's cheers in her head.

Black saw her first, and he offered her a huge grin. "Hey Squirtle," he said. Hermione smiled back at him. "Is what Abraxas said true? Did I really kiss him?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't see it. I looked over when Abraxas was pushing you off. You didn't do anything worse put kiss his cheek after that."

"That's already bad enough," Abraxas muttered under his breath.

"See?" Black poked Abraxas in the arm. He scowled. "You have no proof. For all we know, _you_ could be the one who is imaging things. Why are you so set to believe that I'm the one who's wrong?"

"I don't know," Abraxas rolled his eyes. "Maybe because you were the one who was drunk off of eleven bottles of Firewhiskey and I was perfectly sober? A bit of an overkill, don't you think?"

"You know me," Black shrugged. "I always drink when I'm stressed. For me to drink that much…it must mean that I'm _very_ stressed."

"Yeah, I figured that part out."

Black shot him a cheeky grin before turning back to Hermione. "What brought you back here? I don't suppose your little Gryffindor friends decided to give you back with a cheerful smile on their face, did they?"

"No one decides to give me back. I'm a person, not an object," Hermione informed him. "And don't call them little. They're not little." Black looked like he wanted to interrupt, so she held up her hand. "And I'm not here because they told me to. I'm here because I want to fix something."

"Something," Black raised an eyebrow. "Define this mysterious something."

"I don't know," Hermione said, her voice eerily sweet. Abraxas followed her gaze to Tracey, and he seemed to get it. He nodded at her encouragingly. "Maybe something like someone's face."

She walked over to where Tracey had firmly plopped herself on Tom's lap, and he was fully letting her. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to smooth her features, and tapped on Tracey's arm. "Excuse me,"

Tracey turned around and scowled. Tom just looked amused about this whole thing. Maybe she needed to rearrange his face as well. "What do you want?" She asked rudely. She put her hands on her hips and put on her best intimidating face. Too bad she just succeeded in making herself look like a duck.

"I want to talk to you,"

"Tough luck," Tracey sneered at her. "I'm busy." She turned back to Tom and trailed a finger down his arm. "Now," she cooed. "Where were we?"

Her hand was promptly ripped off by a glowering Hermione. "_Ow!_" Tracey glared. "What was that for?" She turned back to Tom, tears swimming in her eyes. "_Tom_, my hand hurts. Can you make it better?" Tracey's eyes slid seductively towards his lips.

Hermione felt a new surge of anger course through her body. Tom sent her an amused look. He was definitely enjoying the situation a little too much for her taste. She didn't know why she even put up to him in the first place, or why she would go anywhere near Tracey to get Tom back. Hermione blamed it on Nick for coming up with the idea in the first place.

"Look at me when I'm talking, Tracey," she growled at the girl. "Or you'll see just what I can do to you while you sleep."

"Aren't you pathetic," Tracey's lips curled up. "You have to curse me when I'm sleeping? Can't trust yourself to beat me when I'm awake?"

_HYPOCRITE!_ Hermione wanted to scream at the girl. She had been waking up in nonstop green goo for the past few months. Tracey had no right to lecture her on cowardliness. Not to mention, she could easily take out Tracey if she wanted. Instead, Hermione gritted her teeth and said, "Stay away from Tom."

"Oh?" Tracey laughed. "Nice one, Granger. You almost got me there."

"I wasn't joking."

"Did you hear that?" She nudged Tom in the side, batting her eyelashes. "You have a new bodyguard over there. She's asking me to stay away from you." Another laugh, as if she thought what Hermione had said was the funniest thing in the world.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't asking. I'm telling you."

"Who are you to ask me?" Tracey hissed. "You think he's your boyfriend, don't you? You must be a terrible girl if he has to constantly cheat on you with me."

Yes, she was going to have a talk with Tom later about that. "I think the same works vice versa, Parkinson," Hermione replied coolly.

"How _dare_ you!" Tracey screeched. Hermione was sure that the whole Hall was staring now. However, no one did anything to stop them. They just sat and gaped as the two girls bickered with each other. "Do you honestly think Tom would choose a girl like _you_ over _me?_" She cackled much like a witch, remind Hermione of Walburga. The resemblance between the two friends now were quite uncanny. "You're delusional!"

"_Bitch_," Hermione said, and then slapped the girl straight across the face. Tracey screeched as she fell out of Tom's lap, but he did nothing to help her up. So much for the 'loving boyfriend' Tracey thought she had. Hermione glanced down at the girl, noting a red handprint starting to appear on her face. Satisfied with her work, she spun around and exited the Great Hall.

Once she was outside, however, she realized what she had done. _Am I an idiot? All the teachers were watching! Oh no, I'm going to get an E now. _She would have to work extra hard from now on to make it up. No more slacking off for her.

She thought back to Tracey and immediately felt bad. Sure the girl was far from nice, but did she really deserve that? It wasn't her fault for falling for Tom; he was a master at manipulating, after all. And wasn't that what she did as well? It wasn't her place to lecture Tracey; she was a hypocrite, and a big one at that.

Someone grabbed her arm and she whirled around, pressing her wand to the intruder's chest. It was Tom, and he cocked his head to one side. "Hermione," he greeted. He made no move to draw his wand, and she made no move to drop hers.

"What are you doing here?" she asked harshly. "You should be in the Great Hall eating."

"As should you," Tom replied smoothly. "As you can see, you are quite far from the Great Hall right now and you are currently walking in the wrong direction. Might I suggest taking a one eighty degree turn might get you there faster."

"Go back to eat," Hermione scowled at him. "I'm sure Tracey's waiting for you."

"I won't unless you come with me," a smirk crossed his face and he leaned in slightly. The tip of her wand began pressing in to his chest, though it didn't seem to bother him. "As for Tracey, you won't need to worry about her anymore. If you wanted me to stay away from her, you could've just asked. Though," his grin grew wider. "You're cute when you're jealous."

"How many times do I have to tell you that flattery will get you nowhere with me," she said flatly. "And I wasn't aware you were so dense to think you could go cheat on…" she gulped. She and Tom had never established what their relationship was. What _were_ they, anyway?

"Your girlfriend," Tom supplied helpfully, his lips curling up. "You can say it. It's not a curse or anything," he looked amused. "Though I have to say, you cover that area quite well."

Hermione scowled at him. "Do you honestly believe you can go cheat on your girlfriend with another girl and not expect her to get angry? I don't know what warped planet you and Tracey have been living on, but that's not how things go around here." _Not_ _that I should be saying anything. Tom probably has more experience at this than I do._

Tom frowned at her. "She was just sitting close to me. It's not like we were making out."

Suddenly, she felt the urge to slap him. Or to stomp her feet down on his. However, she did neither and instead spun around and stalked off. She heard Tom's voice call after her, but she ignored it. He was going to follow her anyway. Seconds later, his footsteps confirmed it.

Hermione re-entered the Great Hall, and immediately, everyone's eyes wandered over to her. Tracey, she saw, was sporting a red cheek, though it looked as if her pride was stung more than her skin. She glared at Hermione.

Hermione headed over to the Gryffindor side of the table once again, trying to ignore how Tracey was fawning over Tom. He caught Hermione's eye and gave her a little wink. She ignored it.

"Wow," Ron whistled as she sat down. "When I said to go and chase her out, I didn't mean go and slap her."

"That was sick, though," Seamus nodded. "Wasn't that sick?"

Ron nodded. "Totally."

"Why did you let him come back, though?" Seamus asked, his eyes drifting over to where Tom was sitting, Tracey once again nestling at his side. _She just never learns, does she? _"All your hard work for nothing."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind repeating that little episode," Hermione said sweetly, trying her hardest to look unaffected by the unnecessary amount of touching displayed at the Slytherin table.

Nick was looking at her, and then whispered in to her ear, "Riddle's watching us right now." Indeed he was, with his trademark smirk on his face. Black and Abraxas had turned around as well. Black was winking shamelessly, while Abraxas glared at Tracey and cast Hermione an apologetic glance. "Let's try something."

Before she could argue, Nick pulled her in to his lap.

"Nick!" She said, but couldn't help the smile that arose on her face. The two of them had done this so many times before that the position was extremely familiar. The two of them used to sit in her room, and he used to read to her. Not because she couldn't read, but because she liked listening to the sound of his voice. Especially after her mother died, Nick's voice helped her forget about all her troubles.

Of course, her father had been less than pleased when he found them together. He said something about tainting the noble bloodline with incest. _If there is anyone tainting the bloodline, it's you!_ Hermione remembered thinking.

"Better?" Nick teased, poking her in the ribs. She smacked his hand away. "Remember when we used to having tickling fights?"

"And he would walk in on us fighting on the floor."

"And he would look at us like we were disgusting dogs," Nick said, grinning.

"But it's okay, because he let as roll around anyway."

"Because he loved us."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah right."

Nick laughed good naturedly. Ron cleared his throat, watching the two of them in amazement. "Exactly what are the two of you talking about?"

"Nothing," the two of them chortled, and then turned to each other, grinning.

Her nurse, Luna Lovegood, had once said that the two of them could be twins. They knew each other so well they could almost read each other's minds. Hermione prided herself with the ability of being able to tell how Nick was feeling with just one glance, and she knew Nick could do the same to her.

"Well, keep it up. It's working," Seamus said, nodding towards the Slytherin table. There, lo and behold, was the Slytherin prince himself. The look he was shooting could've frozen hell over.

Someone needed to give Tom Riddle a taste of his own medicine.

ஐ

"Cy gave me money to spend," Violetta held up a bag and shook it. The sound of coins clattering against each other could be heard. She frowned at it. "I tried to give it back to him, but he wouldn't take it. He said something about wanting to make me look as pretty as possible." She blushed.

"That means he cares about you. No need to get embarrassed about that." Hermione was going shopping with possibly the strangest group in history. She went with Nick, Eileen, and Violetta. She had originally just wanted to go with Violetta, as Black had said that Cygnus must not see the dress before the dance. Eileen had insisted in tagging along, and Nick decided to be her personal protector and come along as well.

The Christmas Dance was just a week away, and then it was break. Finally, a couple weeks worth of time to do her studying peacefully! Nick told her he decided to return to the Weasley household. She declined both his and Ron's invitation, and told him she would just find a spare room in Diagon Alley. He didn't seem reassured, but it would also be suspicious if he went to turn down Mrs. Weasley's invitation just to go live in a hotel with Hermione.

Violetta had been asked by Cygnus just the day before, and to say the girl was ecstatic was an understatement. Hermione had been happy for her, and immediately volunteered to go shopping with her. There was no doubt that Cygnus, Black, Abraxas and Tom were doing their shopping together, though there wasn't any chance Hermione was going to copy their example and ask any of her other roommates to come along.

Abraxas had been asked by Eleanor, and he was oblivious when he hugged her and said that she was a 'great friend.' He was utterly clueless when she burst in to tears and ran off, and Black told him he was a painfully dense idiot. Hermione had to agree.

Black didn't want to go with anyone, other than Violetta, so he had been planning to sit out for this dance. However, Hermione asked him to accompany her. Partly because he looked lonely when Cygnus and Violetta discussed their plans, and partly to piss Tom off. Tracey was still attached to his arm, and though he shrugged her off sometimes, she remained latched there. Hermione decided that if he could do that, so could she.

Based on his reaction, he didn't like it one bit. But Hermione didn't care.

"Hey Hermione—"

"No."

Eileen frowned at her. "No what?"

"You were going to pick out a dress for me," Hermione said. "My answer is no. The dress you bought me last time was ugly and stuffy. I'll pick out my own dress from now on, thank you."

Eileen looked stung, and Hermione knew she was being a jerk, but she didn't care. Her suspicions in Eileen were on the rise, especially when she found the girl just last week with her hand going through Hermione's luggage. Eileen had explained that she had dropped her pin and was looking for it, and Hermione had pretended she believed it. She didn't.

"You know," Nick said, falling in to step beside her. "Since you're going with Black, maybe you don't even need to buy a dress. I'm sure he'll be quite delighted if you show up in absolutely nothing."

Hermione snorted. "Nah, Black's…otherwise occupied." Nick nodded and shot a quick glance at Violetta. Hermione gaped at him. "You _know_?" she asked, astonished. "Did he tell you?"

"Because Black has nothing better to do than come to me with his girl problems," Nick snorted. "House unity isn't that great, Hermione, other than us, of course." He gave her a grin. "You'll find out how observant I am."

"Oh really," Hermione replied flatly, crossing her arms. "Tell me what you know about me that you've learned by observing and not because I told you."

"I don't think you really like Riddle," Nick said, and Hermione's jaw dropped open. "You think you do, but I doubt it. It's more like…an attraction. And maybe a little past the point of friends, but definitely not in love."

"B-but I kissed him!" Hermione sputtered. "And he kissed me! Multiple times!"

"Spare me the details," Nick laughed. "You can kiss multiple people and not be in love with them. _Not_," Nick amended quickly after seeing her face. "saying that you're that type of girl. I think you're just confused. You haven't dealt with this type of thing before. You've never been in love before. You can't really learn this from a book." She scowled. "Not saying that you can't be in love with Riddle, but I think it deserves more time. Though for the first person, you certainly know how to choose them."

Hermione ignored his last statement. "So _you've_ been in love?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Nope, not yet," Nick replied. "I've observed people in love though. I get the gist of things." He cast her a sideways glance. "Better than you get from your book, anyway."

"Tom's already referring to me as his girlfriend," Hermione said. "What exactly am I supposed to call him then, now that you think I'm not in love with him?"

"Riddle considers you his girlfriend?" Nick raised an eyebrow. "And he still lets Parkinson drape herself over him? He must be extremely moronic or idiotic or both. Well, it seems like the word girlfriend doesn't mean too much in his book. Just call him whatever you want."

"I guess," Hermione replied miserably. After all her father had been through, she had handled it all without complaining much. But this, this business with Tom, she couldn't handle? "I just want to have a nice and easy life. Why do I keep throwing myself in the most difficult path?"

"Hermione," Nick placed a hand on her shoulder. "Your life will never be nice and easy."

"Gee thanks. Words of motivation are not your strong suit," Hermione rolled her eyes just as Violetta stepped out with a strapless pink dress. "I like the style," Hermione offered helpfully. "Change the color though."

"I didn't want to wear green," Violetta said, twirling around. "I see it too much daily. Do you think Cy will be offended?" She bit her lip.

Hermione patted her arm reassuringly. "Never let what a boy thinks bother you," she said, ignoring Nick's obvious fake coughs and him saying, '_hypocrite'_ under his breath. "Anyway, Cygnus would love whatever you wear."

Violetta's eyes brightened considerably. "You think so?" Hermione nodded, and the girl smiled widely. "I'll go try on this one next then," she snatched a baby blue colored dress and disappeared in to the changing room.

"I have to say," Nick observed from next to her. "It is times like these I really appreciate being a guy. We just wear a suit and a tie. The tie is the only hard part, and we're not as picky." He grinned as he looked her up and down. "Though I don't think you're picky either."

Hermione scowled at him. He had been making fun of her hair before she could remember. "And there are times where you wish you were a girl?" She asked flatly. Nick only shot her a mysterious grin. Hermione shook her head, but couldn't prevent a grin. _Strange guy._

"Tada," Eileen came out of the changing room. She was wearing a long sleeved green dress that clashed with her hair and eyes horribly. "How do I look?"

"Terrible," Hermione clipped. Eileen didn't seem too offended and just looked down at her dress. "The colors don't match."

"I think," Nick drawled loudly. "It looks perfect."

"Oh, does it?" Eileen said absentmindedly. "I suppose I should go change now." She disappeared back in to the changing room, snagging another green dress on the way in.

"Hey," Nick said, trying to sound offended. "I told her it was perfect. Why did she need to change?"

"She listened to me, obviously."

"Why would she listen to you?"

"I don't know, maybe because you've been hostile towards her for a couple months now," Hermione shrugged. "Also you were laying it a bit thick. I'd be surprised if she couldn't see through your 'compliment.'" Hermione cast him a sideways look. "You didn't think she was pretty, did you?"

"No, I thought she was ugly as hell. She didn't need to know that though."

Hermione frowned at him. Nick was generally a nice guy, and he rarely showed negative feelings towards anyone. Eileen was clearly one of the exceptions. "Nick…" she began, but then her eyes flicked over to Violetta.

The girl had evidently gone through quite a pile of dresses, based on the amount hanging on her arm. She placed them all back to their racks. Her current dress was strapless—Violetta seemed to love those dresses, based on what Hermione saw was returned—and it was blue. Not quite navy, but dark enough. It complimented her eyes well, and Hermione grinned and gave her thumbs up.

"Really? Is this good?" Violetta squealed. Hermione nodded. "Finally, I'm done! No more dresses," she sprinted back in to the changing room to take it off.

"Aren't you going to try on something?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "I know it must be hard to leave my presence, but you need something to wear to the ball besides your robes."

"I swear, your ego is growing every day," Hermione muttered. "And I was just going to wing it."

"Why don't you wear that one?" Nick suggested, pointing to a pink dress with ruffles. "The price isn't too expensive either."

"It's too pick," Hermione complained.

"Are you a witch or not?" Nick asked, rolling his eyes. "You can change the color quite easily once we purchase it." Nick looked over where Eileen was going over to buy her horrid green dress. "Talk about Slytherirn extremist."

"Lay her off, Nick." Hermione went to pick up the pink dress, feeling it in her hand. It was soft enough, and would be quite pleasant to wear. "She likes green. You have a weird fetish with pink."

"Don't compare me to her," Nick waved her off. "Come on. Violetta's going to come out in a couple of minutes. If you don't want us to leave you in there, you better hurry up."

"You won't leave without me," Hermione replied crossly, but she went in to the changing room anyway.

Five minutes later, the four of them were walking along the sidewalks of muggle London. Hermione had shoved all their bags to Nick, making him carry it. However, he had dropped Eileen's bag so many times that the girl finally decided to carry it herself.

"I suppose this is where we part ways," Eileen said. "I have some things I need to take care of. I'll see you back in Hogwarts." Without waiting for them to answer, she vanished in to the crowd.

"Weird girl," Nick muttered, steering them in the direction of a back alley. They couldn't apparate in the middle of the road; Dumbledore had specifically told them not to when he granted them permission to go shopping.

Hermione's mind immediately flashed to all the bad moments that happened in the back alley. Violetta seemed to remember as well, as she was trembling slightly. Hermione pulled her along, making sure to glance behind her once in a while to make sure no one was following them.

Her efforts turned out to be in vain.

She heard Nick swear softly under his breath as a gang of boys rounded up on them. They didn't look any older than they were, but they were wielding clubs, swinging it around as if it wasn't a deadly weapon.

"Look who's back," A bald headed boy said, a piercing on his lower lip. Nick thrust the two of them behind him, and Hermione put Violetta behind her. Nick had never told her about associating with them, so Hermione had no idea what to expect. "And you brought some friends," his eyes wandered towards Hermione and Violetta. "Excellent."

"Let us go, Kriger," Nick said, his voice cold. "I am no longer part of your clan, so therefore I do not have anything prevent me from hurting you."

"And us, to you," Kriger replied softly. He twirled his club around, and Violetta shrunk back. "But we won't hurt you, Porter, if you join us. You know how valuable your fighting skills were to us. We'll keep your pretty friends safe too."

"Go to hell, Kriger," Nick gritted his teeth.

"I think I'll pass. I heard it was quite unpleasant down there," Kriger replied smoothly, running his eyes over Hermione, unashamed. "Quite a catch you have there. Who is that? Girl number 50? Or have you already passed that mark?"

Nick ignored him and tugged on Hermione's arm. "Let's go," he said. Hermione kept her hand clamped on Violetta's as the three of them put distance between the group of teenage boys.

But it was never as easy as that.

"Whoa, there, Porter. Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you," he lowered his voice. "Keep walking. Don't look back."

Hermione looked back anyway, and screamed, "DUCK!" Nick dropped to the ground. If he had delayed a second later, the club would've flown and hit right in the center of his head. Hermione couldn't help but admire their perfect aim.

But of course, now wasn't the time for that.

"That was cheap," she called, never known for being able to keep her mouth shut. "You are all cowards. Who attacks a man when his back is turned? Do you have no dignity?"

"You caught a feisty one, Porter," Kriger grinned, though it was cold and emotionless. He turned towards her. "Dignity does not matter on a battlefield, little girl. You keep your dignity, you'll be the first one dead."

That was true. Her father had told her so many times before. _There's no time for niceties in a battle. You be nice to someone, they may come back and stab you in the back._

A boy, who looked no older than seven, came forward. Hermione frowned. The club was almost bigger than the boy himself. He tugged on Kriger's arm and whispered something in his ear. Kriger seemed to consider something, and then nodded. The smile he smiled wasn't a pleasant one.

"Did you tell them?" Kriger asked. "Did you tell them how we were your family, and you turned your back to us? Did you tell them what you used to do to girls?" Hermione wanted to groan. The last thing she wanted to hear was that Nick had turned in to Black.

"You were never my family," Nick said, brushing himself off as he stood up. "You never deserved that right."

"I'm sure some of us disagree," Kriger's lips curled up as he beckoned someone from the crowd. A tiny little boy came up, a teddy bear clutched in his hand. She heard Nick draw a sharp intake of breath.

"Nicky?" The little boy said softly. "Is it really you, Nicky?"

"Nick?" Hermione questioned, throwing him a curious glance. She didn't say anything else, but he knew her question.

"They helped me," Nick said. "After I ran away, he found me. I came here with my wand snapped and I was half-dead. They ended up helping me, and I stayed here for a couple of months before I had to leave again."

Hermione frowned. "Why all the hostility then?"

"You don't know the things they made me do," Nick shuddered. "They're not nice people, Hermione. Don't trust them. Think of a way to get us out of here."

"What do you _think_ I'm doing?"

"Look at this," Kriger said. "Mason misses you. He wants you to come back to us. Don't you, Mason?" The little boy nodded, clutching his teddy bear harder. "You wouldn't let Mason down, would you Porter?"

"You must be truly desperate," Hermione said, picking up the club that had fallen on the floor. All eyes were on her. "If you need Nick that badly."

"Hermione," Nick frowned at her. "I asked you to think of a way to escape. That was not an invitation to start a major brawl here."

"I wasn't going to," she stepped in front of him, looking back. "Violetta, when I say go, I want you to sprint as fast as you can. Keep sprinting until I tell you otherwise, alright?" The girl nodded, biting her lip anxiously. _Poor girl. This probably is the most dramatic thing that has ever happened to her._

"Nicky!" Mason called again, his face arranged in an adorable pout. She felt Nick wince behind her. "Nicky, come back to me! Don't let her hurt me!" He started crying, his sobs echoing in the alley.

Nick gripped her arm. "Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "Don't miss."

"Wasn't planning to," she replied, and then chucked the club at Kriger. It hit his right leg and he howled in pain. She used the distraction and screamed at Violetta to run, and the three of them took off in a sprint down the alley.

As Hermione thought, Violetta was clearly not made to run. She was breathing heavily in a couple of seconds, and she knew it would only be time that the group recovered and caught up to them. She spotted an empty, dark house and yelled at them to get in.

The three of them tumbled in to the house and Hermione slammed the door behind her. Making sure no muggles were in sight, she quickly grabbed their hands dragged them along with her in to Apparition.

She failed to notice the pair of eyes watching her from behind the shadows.

ஐ

"I think she's unconscious,"

"Good observation," Hermione snorted as the two of them trudged back towards Hogwarts. Hermione was currently levitating Violetta, who had probably passed out due to the adrenaline rush. "Now that we're back in safe territory, I think you have a couple of things to explain."

Nick sighed. "They were not nice people. Sure, they took me in, but they were involved in dirty businesses. It was…not a nice place."

"What about Mason?" Hermione inquired, thinking about the little boy who obviously held Nick in high regards. "He seemed to genuinely want you back."

"No," Nick shook his head. "He's been through training with Kriger. He lures people in by making them feel bad for him. That's how the group operates. They set him as a trap."

"That's horrible."

Nick shrugged. "I told you they weren't pleasant."

"So what do they do once they lure people in?" Hermione asked, wanting yet not wanting to know the answer at the same time.

"They kidnap them," Nick said simply. "I only stayed there for so long because I tried to free the victims. It was hard. I had no wand, after all. Plus, it started to get suspicious to Kriger."

"What did you do?"

"I kidnapped some myself," Nick sighed. "It must've been strange to them. I would kidnap them, and then secretly release them. I think they never knew whether or not to trust me. Kriger, however, was fine with me after that, so I did what I have to do. I left as soon as I had enough energy and strength to, though." He sighed. "There's only so much of that a person can take."

"Yeah." Hermione patted him on the arm. "I don't get why they nursed you back to health though."

"That part is obvious. I am obviously a handsome specimen, and I tend to attract all kinds of people to me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wasn't aware it was time for your ego to reappear again."

Nick opened his mouth to respond, before he could, Hermione spotted the Black brothers walking together. Their heads were bent together, their faces grim. They came over when she waved, and then stared at Violetta.

"What did you do to her?" Cygnus said, his face turning in to a nasty snarl. He whirled on Nick. "I swear, if you hurt her, I will kill you. Do you understand? I will _murder_ you."

"She's fine," Hermione said tiredly, handing her over to Cygnus, who wrapped her protectively against him. "We had a run in with Nick's past. She fainted. She's perfectly fine, Cygnus."

"Thank God," Cygnus pressed his forehead against hers and started whispering to her. Hermione noticed how Black shot them a sad glance. There wasn't anything she could really do to reassure him either. Whatever nice words she could sprout about having a chance with Violetta would be a lie.

"Squirtle," Black said, glancing back at the castle. "There's something you should probably know." He paused slightly. "I know it's sudden and you probably want to have time to calm down, but it's rather urgent."

"What is it?" She glanced at him worriedly. "Is someone hurt?"

Black shook his head. "Worse. You know Erica, right? The girl who was friends with Daisy."

"Yes." She said, trading glances with Nick before looking back at Black. She dreaded to hear his answer. "What about her?"

"She's been murdered in the Hospital Wing."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Just one blow after another. Let me just say, if I were to live in this world, I would probably die in three seconds. I mean, the most stressful thing in my life is homework, and I can't even take that. :D


	19. Chapter 18 The Joy of Fighting

**Author's Note: **The next chapter might take one or two weeks to update, as my finals start on Thursday *nervousness* so I need to prepare and all that fun stuff. However, I am planning to start a new story, so add me to your author alert if you have any interest in reading it. It's another Tomione story, so if you haven't gotten sick of Tom and Hermione in this story, feel free to read that one. I am not dropping this one; the new story will merely be an option when I experience a writer's block in this one but still want to write.

On that note, I wish all of you a happy long Memorial Day weekend for those of you living in the US, and a safe trip if you're going anywhere. (I'm going a whooping fifteen feet from my computer to my dining room to eat. Wish me luck.)

Thanks for all of your reviews!

Daughter of Oceanus, asianstotheleft, marauders rox, TheGirlonFire52, Virtuoso Wanderings, Alassea Riddle, voldyismyfather, UniCryin, TheEscapeFromReality, CathyCullen16, LadyBalacenia

* * *

><p>"It was Eileen."<p>

"Nick, you have no proof," Hermione scoffed. "Just because she left to take care of her own business does not mean that she killed Erica." The faint torches illuminated their faces, the flickering flames the only sound in the corridor.

"Who else would it be?"

"There are so many students in this school. You heard Pomfrey. She doesn't have a single clue who the suspect was. It was Christmas shopping week. Everyone is coming and going as they please. You can't just single one person out without any proof. I doubt Eileen could've gotten back so quickly, anyway. You can't apparate into Hogwarts directly."

Nick scowled. "I don't see why you so avidly defend Eileen all the time."

"I'm not _defending_ her. I'm merely saying not to jump to conclusions."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Did you see Erica's parents? Dippet said that he was going to tell them that he was sorry for their loss, and that they were still investigating, but I doubt they'd take it well. They looked like they were going to hire the entire police force and interrogate everyone."

Hermione sighed. She had indeed run in to Erica's parents. She had accidently bumped in to her dad, and apologized. She had also said some kind, but cliché words about Erica's death, and both of them just scowled at her. Hermione could see where Erica got her personality from.

Immediately, Hermione felt bad about thinking that way about a dead girl, and she pushed that thought out of her mind.

"So, what happens now?" Hermione inquired. "I take it that the Christmas dance is cancelled? Pity. I actually quite liked my dress. Maybe next year." They both knew, however, that they was going to be no next year. Her father had only promised her one year of schooling, and Hermione highly doubted he would send here again.

It was never about the dance or the dress. It was about the experience, one she would never get again. Nick would, because he was brave enough to run away when he had the chance. She, however, was stuck.

"Actually, they're closing down the school for awhile," Nick said, looking to the side as Dumbledore headed down the corridor, giving the two of them a small nod. He didn't seem surprised that the two of them were out after curfew, nor did he dock points. "They want to investigate without the bother of students, but they're keeping tracking devices on all of us so that if they find evidence that points to us, they can immediately find it. I personally think keeping us all here would make it easier, but you never know what goes on in Dippet's head. "

No cozy visits to her father, then, though spending Christmas with her dad wasn't really one of the first things that came to mind. She had a feeling, though, that if her father really wanted her, he would find some way of disabling the device.

Nick seemed to read her mind and glanced at her worriedly. "Where are you staying, then?" he asked kindly. "I know you already refused, but the Weasley house is always open. They're very nice people, you know, though rather loud at times." He paused. "I'm guessing you're going to go back to Malfoy's house, though."

Hermione shook her head. "Abraxas offered. I'll go visit him, but I'm not going to live there. His parents don't like me, and his brother gives me the creeps." A quick look at Nick informed her that he had the pleasure of meeting Gabriel as well.

"Guess it runs in the family."

Hermione shot him a glare. "Black offered as well, but I don't fancy spending Christmas with Walburga. Or Avery, for that matter. According to Black, the two of them are back together." She paused. "I _really_ hate her."

"Jealous?" Nick laughed at her expression. "What about your boyfriend then?"

"I told Tom that I wasn't going to officially recognize him as my boyfriend until he dropped Tracey, and that made him unhappy. I don't think he likes being told what to do. He's still rather mad right now, so I'm definitely not going to ask to live with him." She paused thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't know where he lives. He never told me." _He never tells me anything_, Hermione realized. _Only when I get him drunk. _Though, she would be the biggest hypocrite if she complained.

"Think it's a Manor?" Nick asked. "Somehow, I can't imagine Riddle living in a small flat. You said he's half blood, right? Since you said his father was muggle, then his mother must be a witch. Does he talk about her?"

"No. I don't know anything about his personal life."

Nick was about to respond when the topic of their conversation came strolling up, his hands playing with his wand. He reached over and snaked an arm around Hermione's waist, pulling her to him possessively. Nick frowned at the gesture, and Hermione squirmed around, only to have Tom tighten his arm. She frowned at him, but he either didn't notice or ignored her.

"You're supposed to be in your dormitory, Porter," Tom said softly, keeping his eyes at Nick. Hermione attempted to stomp on his foot, but he just moved it aside swiftly. "I think that'll be twenty points from Gryffindor." He glanced pointedly at Nick, who scowled but didn't move.

"And twenty from Slytherin."

Tom frowned down at her. "Now why would I do that?"

Hermione glared at him and firmly pushed his arm away. "You're a prefect. You're supposed to treat both houses fairly, or I could go to Dippet and tell him to take away your badge." Merlin knows it had spent her ten whole minutes earning those twenty points, but it wouldn't do if Tom started playing favorites. He was a _prefect_. He was supposed to set a good example for others.

"Fine," Tom said, taking away twenty points from her while scowling. She didn't know why he was so upset; he could easily gain twenty points back. "Run along now, Porter. Hermione and I have some…private business we need to attend to."

"We most certainly do not," Hermione declared, stepping away from the two of them. "I shall be going to sleep and the two of you shall do whatever you do at…" she checked her wrist, only to find out she wasn't wearing a watch. She grabbed Nick's hand instead, and Tom visibly glared at it. "Ten minutes before midnight. So goodbye."

She turned around, but before she could take more than a few steps, something painful gripped her wrist. She flinched slightly, and turned around to be met by Tom's thunderous eyes. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked angrily.

"Let her go, Riddle," Nick's voice was calm, but Hermione could hear the underlying anger. "You're hurting her."

Tom turned his head slowly towards him, his eyes blazing. Hermione eyed both of them fearfully. She knew that they were both quite capable wizards, and if they whipped out their wands, there was no doubt it wasn't going to be pretty. "And who are you to tell me what to do?" Tom hissed.

Nick suddenly stepped closer to Tom, and the two of them were face to face. Hermione gulped nervously as Nick narrowed his eyes. "Hermione's better than you on so many levels," Nick said. "You better watch your step, Riddle, or someone will take her from you."

Tom arched a lazy eyebrow. "Is that a threat, Porter?"

"It's a promise."

They both resumed glaring at each other, and Hermione finally managed to wretch her arm from Tom's tight grip on her wrist. "You two are being ridiculous. Can't we all just get along?"

Of course they couldn't. They were Slytherin and Gryffindor, and those two houses simply didn't get along if your name wasn't Hermione Granger. She sighed as the two of them ignored her, trading insults once more.

Hermione glanced down at her wand. It would be rather difficult to cast a spell at two people at once, so there would be time in between each spell. They were both capable wizards as well, so Hermione had no doubt that if she managed to curse the first one, the second one would have his wand ready to defend. She thought about just cursing Tom, but Nick was being utterly ridiculous as well. Did he think she needed him to fix her relationship with Tom? She was a big girl; she could handle things by herself.

Hermione opted for the easy way out. The two of them were so intensely bickering they didn't notice her at all. She raised both hands, lined them up perfectly, and promptly punched both of them in the face.

"What the _hell_?" Tom said, almost toppling over but managing to catch himself. Nick wasn't so lucky, and he ended up sprawled on the floor. She had missed their noses, so no blood flowed down their faces, but large, purple bruises began to form on their faces.

"Sorry," Hermione said meekly, watching them grimace in pain. She had just meant to jolt them from their conversation. "I think I over did it."

"You think?" Nick snorted. "Hermione, I wouldn't be surprised if my face turned purple tomorrow."

"I'm not going to apologize for punching you, though," Hermione informed him. "That you both deserved."

"I didn't think you would," Nick said, sitting up. Hermione's mind suddenly flashed to the fighting she used to practice with Nick. Neither of them would apologize for beating the other up, but they would always somehow forgive each other. The two of them exchanged a small smile which was broken by the angry throat clearing by Tom. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he glowered at the two of them.

Hermione turned to him. "I think you should get your priorities sorted out before you come and speak to me again."

Tom regarded her coolly, the purplish bruise not taking away any of his attractiveness, much to Hermione's dismay. "My priorities?"

"Yes. I think you should sort out what you and Tracey have, and don't come near me until you have. I'm done playing this game with you, Tom Riddle. I want you to stay away from me, and from Nick as well. Goodbye." She spun away, and this time he didn't stop her.

When she got in to the Slytherin common room, her anger was still present. She scowled darkly at some first years, who cowered away, and found her feet leading her to the boy's dormitory.

"Hermione!" Abraxas smiled as she burst in to his room. She plopped down next to him, an angry look on her face. Cygnus raised an eyebrow at her noisy entrance, putting aside his book. Black had been in the process of changing, and he had his shirt off and was reaching for another one.

He caught her staring and grinned. "Like what you see?"

Hermione waved him off. "No need to get ahead of yourself," she said. "Nothing I haven't seen before." Black raised his eyebrows, but wisely decided not to comment. She figured that saying 'half naked men covered in blood' would scare him off. Though, it would be amusing to watch his reaction.

Abraxas broke the silence. "So, why were you so angry?"

Hermione's scowl returned again. "Tom."

"Ah, one word explains so much," Black said, putting on his shirt and leaning back against his pillows. "Lover's spat?"

"Can we please not talk about it?"

"Fine," Black glanced over at his brother. "Cy, pick a topic to talk about."

"Me?"

"No, invisible Bob behind you."

It was Cygnus's turn to scowl. "Don't make fun of me. That was such a long time ago."

Black suddenly grinned mischievously and turned to Hermione. "Cy here is a lonely fellow. One summer, second year, Violetta went to Paris with her family. And of course our twin love is so amazing that he decided that he was going to ignore me all summer because I stole his teddy bear."

"You forgot to mention that you took the said teddy bear and flushed it down the toilet," Cygnus mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Black waved him off. "Details, details. I was just trying to prove my hypothesis correct that the bear's head was indeed small enough to go down the drain." He grinned at Abraxas. "Abraxas here was the one who doubted me."

"You lost me my teddy bear," Cygnus replied moodily.

"It actually was too big to go down the drain," Abraxas said. "Except Black decided to make it shrink until it would. So technically, it was not my fault. If Black wasn't there, you would still have your teddy bear."

"Except it'd be soaked in toilet water."

Black cleared his throat loudly. "So that was the incident that made Cy decide to avoid me for that summer. Nevertheless, he got bored because I wasn't there to entertain him with my charming self." He ignored the eye roll from everyone in the room. "So he decided to make a friend named Bob to pass his time." Black tried to imitate his brother, though it wasn't very accurate. "Bob, I'm going to the bathroom. Stay here. Bob, I'm going to eat. Would you like some fish? Bob, would you like to sleep with me?" Black laughed. "Imagine what I thought when I heard that Cy was sleeping with some bloke named Bob."

Hermione noticed the very scary look Cygnus had on his face. "That is, erm, a very adorable thing to do," She tried to appease him. She noticed that he had slightly calm down—Cygnus had not been angry for long since the beginning of the year when he hated her—but was still glaring daggers at Black. She decided to change the subject. "So what do you guys usually do for Christmas?"

Abraxas blinked. "Nothing, really. Mother and Father are usually away or busy at that time, and Merlin knows I'm not going to sit around a Christmas tree singing carols with Gabriel. I'm usually by myself, with my homework." He groaned and looked at her. "My homework will be very lonely without you."

"I'm sure it'll survive." Hermione clipped. "It has you to keep it company, after all."

"Wait," Black said, looking between the two of them, his brow slightly furrowed. "I thought you were going to Abraxas's house for the break when you refused my invitation."

Abraxas shook his head. "She refused mine as well."

They all spun to look at her. "Where exactly are you going?" Black raised his eyebrows. "You aren't going to spend it with Tom, are you? He's usually dying to get out of—" He trailed off, looking away.

"Out of where?" Hermione pressed.

"Invading my personal life again?" Tom came in to the dormitory, closing the door softly behind him. When he stepped in to the light, Hermione could see the purple bruise beginning to expand. Hermione wanted to treat him and punch him again at the same time. Abraxas frowned at him, but Tom just nonchalantly plopped himself down on his bed.

"What happened to you?" Cygnus asked. Hermione still hadn't figured out the relationship between him and Tom. Was Cygnus one of Tom's followers? He seemed to be one of the only two people who could use a flippant tone on Tom and still get away from it. The other person was her, of course, but she didn't count. She wasn't taking orders from anyone whose name wasn't Grindelwald. "You look like a bull ran you over."

"Yes, a bull," Tom said thoughtfully, glancing over at Hermione. Hermione scowled, but didn't say anything.

Black's face, however, lit up. "Whoa, Squirtle did that?" He said, looking from the bruise to the scowling Hermione. "Reenacting that alley scene, aren't we?"

"Absolutely not. Tom's not nearly as attractive as those people."

Black raised his eyebrow as Hermione and Tom locked glances. He looked like he was about to say something, but noticed the thick tension in the room and closed his mouth. Abraxas sighed and quickly changed the subject.

"Tom, my parents want to know if you wanted to come over during break."

Tom broke their intense staring contest first, tilting his head to the side. "Yes," he said. "I'll go there as soon as I get out of there." His face soured. "The old codger is keeping extra tabs on me this year." Dumbledore probably thought Tom was responsible for the killings, Hermione mused. Though it was certainly a possibility, Hermione highly doubted it. Erica and Daisy were both murdered the same way; lots of blood. Tom would've just saved himself the trouble and cast the killing curse. It saved time, and would also be harder to track down.

Hermione looked back at him. "Get out of where?"

Tom met her gaze coolly. "I don't think you've deserved the right to know, _Granger._"

So they had gone back to using last names, had they? Two could play at that game. "_I _don't deserve the right to know, _Riddle_?" She glared at him. "Since when was this about me? Last time I checked, I wasn't the one prancing around Tracey like she is the love of my life."

"You were doing the exact same thing with Porter," Tom's eyes were icy cold, and she felt like they were piercing holes through her body. Well, she could do that as well.

"Nick and I were just talking!" Hermione replied hotly, her glare only intensifying. "There was no body contact. Nada. Which is more than I can say for you and Parkinson. Merlin knows how many other types of body contact you've shared with her."

Black made a choking sound, but both of them ignored him. "And what were you talking about with Porter that was so urgent? You could've waited until morning."

"Nick and I were talking because we were on our way back from seeing Erica's parents!" This was getting ridiculous. Since when had this whole thing become her fault? "If it bothers you so much, I'll make sure we go to his dormitory next time. Maybe I'll even have some _body contact _with him."

"Why would it bother me?" Tom sneered, all presence of the nice and respected prefect gone and left with only a monster. "I couldn't care less about what you do. Now get out before I make you."

She had been planning to leave the dormitory, but Tom's last statement sounded suspiciously like an order. And Hermione Granger didn't take orders from anyone. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled. "You'll make me? And pray tell, how exactly will you _make me?_"

"I assure you, Granger, that I can throw punches better than you can," He was still sitting on his bed as Hermione sprang to her feet, her eyes furious. She absentmindedly noticed Abraxas, Black and Cygnus with a mixture of awe and fear etched on their faces. He tilted his head, and Hermione thought for a second that the egoistic prat he was was back. However, that awful sneer graced his face once again. "You punch like a sissy."

If she hadn't been so furious, she would've laughed. The mighty Tom Riddle, using words like sissy? It was a day in history. However, she simply glowered at him and swung her left arm. He hadn't been expecting it. After all, she was a righty. However, he didn't need to know that her father taught her to fight with both hands. Sticking only to one side, he said, was a major weakness and could make your weak side vulnerable.

There was a crack as her left fist connected with his nose, and she felt liquid dripping on her hand. Without waiting to see his reaction, she spun around and exited the dormitory, making sure to slam the door behind her.

Tom Riddle sat still on the bad, his hand going to gingerly touch his bleeding nose. His roommates were all staring at him in shock, but he paid them no mind. That was the second time she had punched him in a span of a half an hour.

No one punched him and got away with it.

Hermione Granger was going to pay.

ஐ

Hermione didn't interact with Tom again before she left. She had avoided him, opting to sneak in to the kitchens rather than eat in the Great Hall. The elves loved her, and she found out she rather liked them as well. She would give them presents, though they would never accept the clothes she got them. She tried to explain that she wasn't trying to free them, only trying to keep them warmer, but they got increasingly offended. She finally stopped giving them clothes. They stopped trying to poison her food after that.

She saw Abraxas, Black and Cygnus sometimes, and while they conversed, they avoided the room scene completely. She imagined that the three of them were curious, and she didn't know how much Tom told them, but she was grateful that they didn't push it. She didn't want to get them too involved; it was business between her and Tom.

She opted to spend the last week of school in the library, buried in books. Eileen had come and go, and even Violetta had come to visit at her, but her best companions were the Gryffindors. Nick and Ron came often, with Seamus sometimes in tow, though the latter left quickly, saying that there was no way he could blow up a book without Pince all over him. She rather appreciated the gesture, though; she knew how much studying irked the three of them.

She had ridden back to King's Cross with them. She had wanted to sit with Abraxas, Black and Cygnus, but she figured that they would be riding in the same compartment as Tom. So as the students went home one by one for break, she didn't get to see her Slytherin friends nor wish them to have a pleasant break. She wanted to; even one little smile or one small wave would've been sufficient.

It was all Tom's fault.

Hermione surveyed the house in front of her. It seemed cozy enough. She had asked Dumbledore if there was any places nearby to stay because she wanted to go sightseeing. He suggested this little house, saying that the landlady was extremely nice. Well, it certainly looked cozy, though a little shabby. She hadn't been expecting a five star hotel, though. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

"Hello?" She called out, looking around. The place seemed empty, though she could hear faint giggling on the floor above. Great, they sounded like children. She would have to be around children for at least a month. She didn't have anything against children, not really, but it was when they starting giggling and shrieking when she couldn't take them.

Especially children like Tracey Parkinson.

"Hello!" A woman came bustling down the stairs. Her brown hair was tied in a bun. While her voice was light, her face looked rather strict. She reminded Hermione of a combination between Pince and Pomfrey. "Welcome to our orphanage. Professor Dumbledore told me about you."

Hermione gaped at her. "_Orphanage?_"

"Yes." The woman frowned at her. "Professor Dumbledore didn't tell you?"

"He told me he found a hotel for me!" Panic shot through her. She couldn't live at an _orphanage._ She would get absolutely no peace and quiet. There would be kids. Lots and lots of kids. What if they stole from her? What if one of her precious books went missing? Her mind whirled on the seemingly endless amount of horrors that could arise from this experience.

"I'm sorry to hear about that. It must've been some miscommunication," The woman said absentmindedly. She didn't seem to be too interested in Hermione. "Since you came all the way down here, you might as well stay for awhile. I promise you'll have your own room and personal space." She held out her hand formally. "I'm Linda Cole, the manager of this orphanage."

Hermione shook it stiffly. Mrs. Cole took her on a brief tour of the orphanage, though to Hermione's relief, she didn't see any kids yet. She knew all of them were in their rooms, but she wasn't ready to face anyone just yet.

Hermione tried to nod and appear interested in the tour, but she found Mrs. Cole's voice to be dreadfully dull. She was almost like a robot; her voice was spoken in a monotone. Dumbledore obviously had a hidden agenda to get her to come to this orphanage, because nowhere in Mrs. Cole did Hermione find the 'extremely nice lady' Dumbledore had promised.

Finally, Mrs. Cole showed Hermione her room and left her alone. It was on the small side, though she couldn't complain. It even had a big bookshelf near the corner. She nearly hugged it. The bed was near the window, and the desk was next to the bookshelf. Perfect. That was all she needed.

As she started unpacking, and owl immediately flew over with a letter attached to its feet. She thanked it, but informed it that she has no treats. She wasn't expecting anyone to owl her, after all. The owl pecked her seven times for good measure, and then flew off. She could see it waiting on the roof of the opposite building though. Hermione sighed and ripped the seal off of the parchment.

_Hey,_

_My parents are going away for New Year's, and my brother has decided to camp out at Avery's for the rest of break (I'm assuming that's why you turned down my invitation.) It'll only be us and maybe a few other people. _

_I'd be happy if you were here._

_-AM_

By 'other people,' Hermione assumed he meant the Blacks and Tom. He had probably neglected to mention the latter because he thought it would scare her off. Hermione sighed. It would do her some good to relax a bit. She picked up her quill and was beginning to write back when the door opened.

Hermione turned around as a boy who looked about her age walked in. He had shaggy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Hermione raised an eyebrow as he plopped himself down on her bed. _ Boys sure are forward these days._

"You're Hermione Granger," the boy said. Hermione placed her quill down and swiveled her chair to look at him. He wasn't looking at her, though; he was looking around her room.

"Yes, I am." She wasn't particularly pleased that he knew her name, though she knew he had probably just overheard when she was touring the orphanage with Mrs. Cole before.

His eyes passed over the bookshelf, now filled with books, and wrinkled his nose. "Why do you have so many books?" He asked. A look of disgust crossed his face. "I find them dreadfully boring."

He could walk down and invade her personal space, and she wouldn't have minded much. However, insult books in front of her and she was livid. "Get out," she spat at him.

The boy looked shocked and held up his hands. "Whoa, no need to get so defensive. I didn't mean to offend you," he cast one last glance at her bookshelf. "I'll try to refrain from insulting your books from now on."

"You better," She went back to her writing, trying to ignore him. The boy, however, seems to have no intention of leaving.

"I'm Jacob Anderson," he introduced himself. "You can call me Jake."

"Mhm." She paid him no mind, scribbling down words on her parchment. She hoped he would take the hint and leave. Unfortunately, he didn't appear to be so bright.

"Who are you writing to?"

"Someone." She sealed it up, and then placed it to the side. There was no way she could send it with him there. Abraxas's owl didn't look like the type to stay long, so she'd have to find another owl. She really wished he would get out, though she didn't want to be rude and say so.

He decided to drop the subject, much to Hermione's relief. She wasn't in the mood to talk about Abraxas or anything about Hogwarts. "So how do you like it so far?" Jake asked. "Heard that you thought this was a hotel."

Hermione just looked at him. "And how exactly do you know this?"

Jake just shrugged. "Eavesdropping is a man's best friend."

Hermione didn't think it was true, but she didn't want to voice her opinion. For once in her life, she had no desire to debate with this boy. He looked like the type that only came to meet her because of a dare. If that was the case, she wanted no part of it.

"Have you met any of the other kids yet?"

"Just you."

He smiled, as if secretly pleased. What exactly he was pleased about, she had no idea. If he was looking for a best friend, she didn't have time for that. If he wanted more…well, she still didn't have time for that. "Would you like me to tell you about the other kids?"

"Sure." She had long given up on trying to make him go away. He didn't seem the type who would do that unless she specifically asked. And she didn't want to make enemies on her first day. Plus, it'd do her some good to know a little bit about the other residents.

"We're all cool here," he said. "Well, except for four people. There's Eric, who has broken both his legs after he was pushed down the stairs. He's not able to walk, and has to get around in a wheelchair. He's been that way for awhile now. I think it's maybe six years? Maybe seven. Then there's Amy and Dennis, who were found in a cave. They've been driven insane."

He was gauging her reaction. He didn't get one. She had seen much more disturbing things in her past that she knew if she got hung up on little things like these, she would never make it through life. However, she wasn't her father either, so she felt sympathy towards these individuals she was to meet later.

"And the last boy," Jake shook his head, disgust evident on his face. "He's an alien."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is he green?"

"He might as well be. He doesn't belong. Anyone who messes with him gets in freakish accidents, though no one ever can blame it on him. He's always standing on the other side of the room. We suspect he's the person who pushed Eric down the stairs, because Eric had stolen his yoyo the day before. However, he was standing ten feet away from Eric, so it's impossible."

Hermione froze as the description matched someone she knew. "And," she said, her eyes narrowing. Jake looked surprise to see her suddenly give him her full attention. "What is exactly the name of this boy?"

"Boy?" The door entered, and he entered, confirming her suspicions. "I've been reduced now to a mere boy now, have I, Granger?"

Jake clenched his fists, but Hermione just sighed. "Hello, Tom," she said. "I should've known you would be here."

"No," Tom said, leaning lazily on the doorframe. "You shouldn't have. That was the cause of this whole argument. You were trying to pry in to my personal life, and then you broke my nose because I wouldn't tell you."

His nose did look a lot better. Pomfrey's work, she supposed. Even the bruise was hardly showing now. Jake seemed surprised about this whole thing, staring at her in shock, but she ignored him. "You seem to have forgotten that this whole argument started with you and Tracey."

"It started with your jealousy."

Jake's jaw dropped open. "Are you two _dating_?"

"No," Hermione said, at the same time Tom said, "Yes." Jake's eyebrows shot up under his hair.

"Oh, it's yes now, is it?" Hermione said, trying to control the volume of her voice. Tom met her gaze coolly. "So you're going to forget about our whole argument?"

"I think you did more damage to me than I did to you," Tom said simply. "I think you should be quite grateful that I'm willing to forgive you. It was mortifying to have to walk down to the Hospital Wing with my nose bloodied." He knew as well as her, though, that the corridors should've been empty. There was no one but the portraits to look at him.

_The nerve of him…_"I'm done talking to you. You're still an insufferable prat." she said, getting up. He was blocking the door, so she pushed him. He caught her wrist and squeezed tightly, and Hermione resisted the urge to cry out. Instead, she tried to stare him down. "Let me go, Riddle."

"Where exactly are you going?"

"Where do you think? Dumbledore." Tom winced when she said his name, but Hermione ignored him. "He's off his rocker, sending me here. I'm not spending a month with you. That's final. Now let go of my arm, Riddle, or else I'll…"

"You'll what?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "You'll hit me again?"

She raised her left hand, and he instinctively brought his hand up to guard his face. Without thinking, she changed her plans and instead brought her knee up and kneed him in a very painful part. He doubled over, and she swiftly left the room, found the emptiest place she could and apparated away.

ஐ

Dumbledore, unfortunately, was not in his office, though she had a suspicion that he was avoiding her. She went throughout the day and didn't see him at all, and the other teachers were suspiciously quiet about it.

_What on earth are they trying to do? Drive me crazy? _

By dinner time, Hermione had grown frustrated and stomped back to the orphanage angrily. She would've loved to retire to her room, though she was sure that there were no house elves here to make her a midnight snack. She didn't fancy going hungry for her first night, either. Sighing, she headed towards the dining room.

Unfortunately, there were only two free seats. One was the table Tom was sitting at. There was no one five feet near him. Jake hadn't been kidding when he said Tom was an alien in the orphanage.

The other one was directly next to Jake, and he firmly placed his feet on the chair, signaling that the seat was clearly not open for her to sit in. There went her 'acquaintance' with him. To be honest, she was rather relieved, though she wished he had given her the option to sit there. She wasn't sure how well Tom would react to being punched twice and kneed once.

Tom was reading a book—she couldn't see the title, but she had no doubt it was dark—but looked up when she sat down politely on the opposite end of the table. He raised his eyebrows, but she ignored him and picked at her food with her fork. Hermione was well aware that the rest of the orphanage was watching, but there wasn't really anywhere else for her to sit, was there? She didn't fancy sitting on the floor.

"Hermione." Tom greeted, tilting his head slightly to the side. He seemed to do that more nowadays. Hermione noticed, with relief, that she didn't see any hint of anger on his face. Then again, he had always been good at hiding his emotions.

"Hi," she said, not looking up. After eating Hogwarts food for so long, it was quite easy to disappoint her. The muggle food seemed yummy enough, but she couldn't help but yearn for the skillful house elves of the Hogwarts kitchen. She mushed around her broccoli with her fork.

She had always hated broccoli when she was little. She supposed she could call it a fear, but one that she had gotten over with. Her mother used to be able to flash the green monster in front of her, and Hermione would jump up and hide in the Mansion's darkest rooms, ready to face any monster that lurked there as long as she didn't go anywhere near that ugly vegetable tree.

Of course, Nick had always run after her with one in his hands. Hermione supposed that they must've made quite an interesting sight. But then again, her father was constantly angry at the two of them, so she supposed it wasn't anything new.

"How was your day so far?"

"It was very nice," Hermione said absentmindedly, tossing her broccoli to one side. She saw Mrs. Cole casting her glances, so she tried to look interested in the food before her. The broccoli stared back, as if challenging her. Hermione Granger never backed down from challenges.

Except she _really_ did not want to eat it.

"Frowning so much can't be good for your health," Tom said, ever so helpful. He, of course, was eating his broccoli with no problem. Hermione scowled down at her plate. The broccoli seemed to be mocking her. Tom's influence, she supposed.

"Would this be better?" Hermione raised her head and gave him a super big fake smile. It immediately vanished and she went back to playing with her food, though not before seeing a smirk appear on Tom's face.

"Perfect." Did Tom Riddle just _coo_? Weren't they supposed to be mad at each other? Yell and scream? Punch and maim? However, he had a smile plastered on his face, though she could see the amusement under his mask. Ah, so he had a secret agenda.

His next statement shocked her. "Christmas is coming. Would you like to go shopping with me?"

Hermione's jaw dropped open and she forgot her resolve to look at Tom angrily. "You want to go shopping with _me?_" She screeched, and was aware that everyone had stopped talking and was staring at them. Tom was smirking at her.

"Of course you," Tom drawled. "Who else would I be going with?"

"I don't know, Tracey?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "What, she had something to do so you needed to pass time? Is that why you're talking to me? You might as well stop. It's not going to work on me."

He ignored her comment about Tracey. "You always seem to assume the worst of me."

"I wonder why."

He grinned, seeming amused about the whole situation. "I didn't ask you to _sleep_ with me," he said, and Hermione's cheeks immediately flared up. He smirked as she tried to turn her head to hide her vermillion face. "I just asked you to accompany me to shop. Though it looks like you're quite intrigued by the first idea as well."

"Fine," Hermione said, still mortified that she was as red as a tomato.

"Fine, you'll sleep with me?" Tom raised his eyebrows. "I didn't offer, but if you're so desperate, I guess I can—"

"Not sleep with you, you prat," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Who would want to sleep with you?" She ignored the look of mock hurt that appeared on his face. "I said yes, I'll go shopping with you. Where are we going?"

"A wizard town, of course,"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Shh!" She whispered, though he only continued to look at her, rather amused. "We're in an orphanage, Tom! What if someone heard you?"

"They already think I'm psycho," Tom shrugged. "Cole found one of the books I was reading under my bed. She burned it and locked me in my room for ten days. The rest of the orphanage now thinks I'm going to cast dark magic on them."

"Which you did,"

"Which I should," Tom clarified. "But I can't. The old codger took away my wand for the holiday, something about not trusting me. What's not to trust?" He gestured to himself while Hermione rolled her eyes. "I _am_ perfect, after all."

"Of course," Hermione snorted. "What did Pince say about the burning of her book?"

"It was terrible. It took me two whole days to convince her to let me in the library. Think of all the work I could've been doing. I fell so behind on my studies."

"Don't be ridiculous." Hermione clipped. "You never spend time in the library studying, anyway. You spend it distracting people."

"True, true," Tom winked at her. "But I have an image to protect."

"Of course you do," Hermione waved him off, wiping her mouth on her napkin. "Merlin forbid that people know that the mighty Tom Riddle has been banned from the library for a whooping two days."

"Did you just say Merlin?"

Tom's eyes immediately hardened and snapped up to meet the person behind her. Sighing, Hermione turned around saw Jake with two of his friends standing behind her chair. He was shuffling around, uncomfortably, but his friends didn't seem to feel the same.

"Hello Jake," Hermione nodded at him. "Hello Jake's friends."

The girl threw her a haughty look. She reminded Hermione of Tracey. But then again, nowadays, almost every girl she saw reminded her of Tracey. The boy, however, just smirks wide and lets his eyes wander up and down her body. He reminds Hermione of Gabriel, and Gabriel always equaled bad.

"Why are you sitting over here?" Jake demanded, either not noticing or ignoring the looks his friends were shooting Hermione. His hands tapped the back of her chair nervously. "There was plenty of room over there."

"Yes there was," Hermione agreed. "Until you made it clear that you didn't want me over there when you put your foot on it. Pardon me for not sitting on your foot. If you ask me nicely though, maybe I'll consider it next time."

Jake frowned. "What's the matter with you?"

Hermione sighed. She was in no mood to start a major fight in the middle of the orphanage, not when everyone else was watching. There were a couple of extremely young children, and she didn't want it to get physical. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to invite you to sit with us," Jake said, and then leaned down. "You shouldn't trust him. He's not who he seems like."

Tom, she had always known, had an exceptional hearing, much like everything else he possessed. And based on the look on his face, he heard exactly what Jake said. He looked like he was going to start firing wandless curses at him, so Hermione kicked him under the table and shot him a look.

"Thank you for your concern," Hermione said as politely as possible, ignoring Tom's rather loud snort and kicked him again. This time he dodged, and her foot connects with the leg of his chair. She barely restrained herself from shouting out a word that the little kids didn't need to learn. "But I think I'm okay."

"No," the Gabriel wannabe butt in. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. "You don't know." He pointed at Tom, who was now sitting with a look of indifference on his face. "He's a monster. He's _sick_."

Hermione saw Mrs. Cole watching, but the woman didn't seem to be ready to interfere. All the children watched as well, though it looked like this was a daily routine. No wonder Tom turned out as coldhearted as he was; this kind of environment could drive anyone insane.

She could see how it would especially affect Tom. Tom, who was the perfect student at Hogwarts. Tom, who everyone loved and admired and flirted with. Tom, who was treated as no better as crap here in the orphanage, a place he would need to spend both the winter and summer breaks in. No wonder Black said he was eager to get out of here.

"Did you know," the boy continued, not seeming to notice the frown on Hermione's face. "He skins rabbits for pure fun? Dennis annoyed him, and the next day his rabbit was hung and skinned. Dennis accuses him, and then Dennis goes insane." He sneered at Tom, who amazingly was still showing no emotion on his face. Hermione suspected it had something to do with his lack of wand, though.

The girl continued where the boy left off. "He's so annoying," the girl informed Hermione in her high pitched voice. "Like, oh my god, his ego much be _so_ huge." Hermione couldn't argue with that. There were few people whose egos even came close to Tom's. "Eric beat him once in a race, and Tom broke both his legs. Oh my god, it's so terrible." She sniffed dramatically.

Though it sounded like something Tom would do, she highly doubted he would risk the wrath of Dumbledore just for a pesky race. Then again, he always wanted to be on top, so she couldn't really put anything past him.

Tom got up so suddenly, the chair scraped against the floor. Hermione looked at him fearfully, afraid he would start a major brawl in the middle of the kitchen. Jake and his friends, however, don't look too intimidated. They must've beaten him up many times before, because Tom without his wand is almost as close to useless. Hermione wondered why Dumbledore would continue sending her to this place…unless he didn't know about the treatment he was receiving.

Instead of fighting, however, Tom simply spun away and headed back up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door so hard they could still hear it from all the way downstairs. The boy and the girl snickered and high fived each other, and while Jake tried to look somewhat ashamed in front of her, he failed miserably. Even Mrs. Cole seemed to manage a small smile.

"You're all pathetic." Hermione said, standing up. The whole room went silent once again, as fifteen pairs of eyes met hers. "Teaming up against one person is cowardly. Don't you have anything better to do with your time than pick on him? If you would all just leave him alone, nothing would've happened. You just keep poking at him, trying to annoy him." Tom, she knew, wouldn't have bothered any of them. He wanted to be left alone, and he wanted nothing to do with the muggles. He wouldn't intentionally draw attention to himself unless he felt like he was forced to.

"He's a psycho," the boy spat out. "He's fucking _insane_ and you're defending that creature? You're defending him after everything he's done? You like people like that? Then maybe you're as crazy as him. Maybe you aren't that sane after all."

Hermione did the only thing she seemed to be doing nowadays.

She reached over and slapped the boy straight across the cheek. She would've punched him, but she didn't want her hand stained with his blood. And she sure didn't want her knees going anywhere near his private parts.

The boy howled and fell over, clutching his face like it would fall off at any moment. He was clearly overreacting, but Hermione didn't stay to see what would happen afterwards. She quickly spun away and headed upstairs. There was someone she needed to talk to.

ஐ

He was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. When she opened the door softly and let herself in, he glanced over at her. It was quick, but Hermione was sure she saw it; a hint of vulnerability and insecurity present in his eyes.

Of course, it was quickly wiped off and replaced with a look of indifference.

"Hi, Tom," she said as gently as she could, sitting down uninvited next to him on the bed. He nodded, but turned his head away so she couldn't see his face. She reached her hand out, but pulled it back; she wasn't sure how well he would respond to being touched.

They sit silently together, before Tom finally turned back to her. "Why are you up here?" he asked, his voice quiet but his eyes still burning intensely. "They should be celebrating downstairs right now. You should go join them."

"I don't think I'm invited anymore," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I kind of felt bad for you, so I slapped the guy who was making fun of you." She showed him her hand as proof, as if he could somehow see that she was telling the truth.

A small smirk graced his face, but then it was completely wiped clean. No traces of the Tom Riddle she knew was present. It was almost as if it was an imposter using his body. "You felt bad for me?"

Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. Tom was not usually the person who would like being pitied. She didn't think he _wanted_ her to pity him, but she didn't think he'd like it if she lied. And he seemed to be exceptionally good at telling when she lied. She changed the subject. "Did you attack Dennis because he gave you competition for Amy?"

He chose not to answer her question either and instead shot her a questioning look. "You still remember Amy?"

"Of course I do," Hermione replied, slightly offended. Her memory wasn't that bad, after all. And it had been a rather memorable day; Tom had come back drunk and had actually decided to be open with her for once. "I remember everything you told me."

He looked strangely grateful at this, and Hermione wondered again if this was just an imposter of Tom. How could something like a mere muggle orphanage change his personality so much? Did the taunts really affect him that much?

As if reading her mind, Tom answered softly, "I don't usually react like that. It's just…" he trailed off. "I didn't want them to get you. I didn't want you to go with them." He clenched his fist, and his face has an angry scowl on it. That was more like the Tom she knew, except the words he was spouting surprised her. "I _won't_ let them take you from me."

Without warning, he pulled her down so that her head lay on his lap. She twisted slightly so she could look at him, and saw the conflict of emotions in his eyes. It wasn't just her, she realized. Anyone from Hogwarts, even a Gryffindor, would've been sufficient. He just wanted a link to the wizard world. And here, in a muggle orphanage, he wasn't getting that.

She was going to have to have a serious talk with Dumbledore. No one, not Tom, not even Avery deserved something like this. Okay, maybe Avery did deserve it, and sometimes Tom _really_ deserved it, but this was as bad as torturing physically, maybe even worse. They were undermining Tom's confidence.

Honestly, though, she thought that Tom's confidence was so high that it couldn't be undermined. It seemed as if she were wrong about a lot of things concerning Tom.

"I told you about Amy already," Tom said, returning to her previous question, his voice bitter. He reached to stroke her hair, and then seemed to think better of it and instead placed them awkwardly by his side. Hermione had seen him a lot of things, but never awkward. "She was in love with Dennis. She still would be, if she could still form a sentence. She just lies in bed and sprouts nonsense" He laughed, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement.

It rather scared her to see him like this. She never would've guessed that she would have to see him like this. She shivered slightly, and he looked down at her. She couldn't read his eyes, though. She wondered absentmindedly if she could one day.

"Did you love her?"

"No." Tom shook his head. "I told you already. She was a possession, and I don't like it when possessions are taken away from me. And I don't think I've ever loved anyone." Hermione wondered if he was drunk. He seemed to be extremely open with her right now, though she wasn't complaining.

"What about Tracey?"

Tom snorted and looked at her, his eyes pure and grey. "I don't even like her," Tom informed her, though a slight smile. "I can't stand her, actually. I just wanted to see how far you would go. I didn't think you would slap me, though."

"And punch you."

"And knee me."

All this talk was making Hermione strangely sentimental as well. "What about me?" she asked cautiously, observing Tom carefully. "Am I just a possession to you are well?"

"Everything is my possession," Tom said plainly, as if he were talking about the weather. Hermione supposed, though, that that was really how he saw everything. "And I don't love you, if that's what you're asking. I do enjoy your presence more than others, but I don't love you." He cast her a glance. "If you would like, I can recite some sentimental crap that I memorized."

Hermione shook her head. "Nah, I'm okay."

He smirked. "Good. Because I'd hate to lie." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he met her gaze head on. Well, if he truly believed that all the sentimental stuff was a lie when it came to her, then so be it. She was never a fan of sentimental love declarations anyway.

Hermione sighed. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She had spent so much time fretting over this issue, so much effort thinking about this. "About me, about Tracey."

"Same reason I didn't push her away," Tom shrugged, and then smirked. Hermione groaned at the return of his ego, and the snarky response that he most definitely was about to say. "I have a prefect image to uphold. And I can't help that I'm so desirable."

"That's it. Your ego has returned." Hermione sat up, only to find that he was holding her down with his arm. "Let me up, Tom. I'm not lying in your lap anymore. It makes me feel…girly."

Tom frowned, but let her up. "What's wrong with feeling girly?" He looked at her. "You're a girl."

"Brilliant observation," Hermione commented dryly. "And I hate nail polish and hair braiding and giggling and everything else girls my age do for fun. I'm just not fit to be a girl. I'd probably be better off as a man."

"No, I am quite satisfied with your current gender," Tom chuckled, leaning back against the wall. His insecurity seemed to have vanished, but he wasn't back to his usual self either. This in between step, where he actually smiled instead of smirked, made Hermione quite happy. He looked at her hair. "Though, a couple of braids might do that justice."

Hermione swatted at him, which he easily dodged. She, however, allowed him to pull her back in to his embrace. She would be able to make fun of him later, for being a hopeless romantic, but for now, she was okay with just sitting in his arms.

"Why does Dumbledore still make you come here?" she asked after a couple minutes of silence. Tom immediately tensed up, but Hermione's curiosity override any sense of pity she felt for him. "Does he know about your living condition here?"

"He makes me come here because he hates me." Tom replied, clenching his jaw. "There's nothing about my living condition here. I get a bed and some shelter, which in his dictionary, symbolizes as being fortunate enough."

"I guess that's true," Hermione said softly. "Some people who have lost their parents end up living on the streets."

"I would prefer living on the streets to this," Tom snarled. It took him a while to compose himself again. "That's enough about me today. What about you? Why don't you share me some childhood story on how you and Porter fell in love at first sight?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For your information, when Nick met me, he hated me." Tom raised his eyebrows. "He hated me worse than Cygnus hated me when he first met me. He actually tried to drown me."

"Drown you," Tom repeated in disbelief. "You sweet loving boyfriend tried to _drown _you."

"My sweet loving _brother_ was only jealous," Hermione said. "Much like you are right now. He thought I got more attention from our father than he did. I thought the exact same about him."

"Did you punch him afterwards?" Tom smirked. "Knee him?"

"No, that's reserved only for you," Hermione informed him dryly. "After a couple of failed drowning attempts, we finally started to talk to each other civilly. This took quite a while, though. We spent approximately half a year trying to drown each other."

"And what made you stop?" Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Did you finally find your inner Gryffindor and decide that killing is morally wrong?"

"Killing _is_ morally wrong, and Merlin, you're starting to sound like Black. No, I did not find my inner Gryffindor." She shuffled around slightly. "We just both figured out that our father wasn't as good as we thought him to be."

Tom looked at her, trying to read her, but as always, he couldn't. He opened his mouth, but Hermione shook her head. "Don't even, Tom. That's as far as you get with me today."

Tom sat back and opted instead for a happier topic. "I'm going to kill Dumbledore when I get back." He knew he was fibbing. He had years to swear he was going to murder the wacko Transfiguration teacher, though he never followed through with his plan.

Hermione, much to his surprise, laughed and agreed with him. "I'll come along," she said. "Maybe killing is a little too brutal, but someone has to talk to him about this. This is not right." She bit her lip.

"Are you defending me?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "Hermione Granger is trying to defend me. It's a historical day."

Hermione scowled at him. "Tom Riddle is found in a muggle orphanage." It was Tom's turn to glare at her. "I bet Rita would love to hear that story. It'd be all over the news."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tom chided in what sounded like Rita's voice. Hermione chuckled. "Rita hates you. She won't listen to anything you say. Everything you say is bogus to her."

"True," Hermione said. "I could always polyjuice as you, though. Imagine her face when the famous Tom Riddle approaches her and with big, juicy gossips about his tragic past. She would be down your throat in a couple seconds." She laughed at his horrified expression and held up a hair that she picked up from his robes without him noticing. "Look. Hair."

Tom grabbed for it, but she held it out of his grasp. He tackled her down so he was on top of her, though she still somehow managed to keep the hand away from him. She was laughing though, her petite body shaking underneath him.

It must've been the first time he smiled in the orphanage, he realized. The first time that he enjoyed being in the orphanage. Of course, his mood had nothing to do with the setting, but Tom couldn't help but grin down at the girl underneath him. He was acting horribly sentimental, he decided, and he needed to stop this before he ruined his reputation.

"You've been a naughty girl, Miss Granger," he breathed out, trying to reach for his hair. Unfortunately, she still managed to evade his grasp even when he had the advantage over her.

Hermione looked up at him, tilting her head to one side, trying to mimic a posture he did so often. "Does that mean we're okay again?" She asked softly. "Is everything about Tracey and Nick behind us?"

"It's your choice, Hermione," Tom drawled out, looking at her intently. "I'm here for the mere purpose of beating you in every class. It's your decision if you want to distract yourself even more."

Hermione swatted at him and laughed, accidently dropping his piece of hair off the bed. Neither of them paid it any notice. "Now that that's settled," she said, her face light. They would both regret being so romantic in the morning, but for now, nothing else mattered. "What was it about me being naughty?"

"You've been naughty, thinking you could get away from this," he shot her a wicked grin, one she enjoyed seeing on his face. It usually meant that he would be doing something she highly enjoyed. "You know what I do to naughty girls?"

"You let them beat you in class?" she supplied helpfully. "Preferably, ancient runes?"

Tom merely smirked. "I can do better," he said, and then bent down to kiss her.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I apologize for the major sappiness in this chapter for those of you who don't like sappy stories, but I thought we should see the two sides of Tom. The charming, handsome Tom that was present at Hogwarts, and the more insecure one back at his orphanage. Tom, despite what he seems like, isn't quite Voldemort just yet. A little part of him still yearns for love, which is present in the bottom half of this chapter.

And I seem to have developed a fetish with slapping/punching/kneeing from Hermione.


	20. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: **HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE. (Just thought I should put it out there so all of you who read it will have to leave a review saying at least happy birthday, because that's the nice thing to do, right? Right.) As some of you have noticed, and others are noticing right now, the title and summary have changed. _They. Are. Not. Official._ I'm still going through title after title, trying to come up with a new one. As for the spoiler about who her dad is, that fact is revealed rather early on, so I'm not particularly worried about that.

If you haven't noticed, my new story is out! It's called 'The art of not knowing.' Check it out if you haven't already, and feel free to leave me birthday wishes on that one as well. ;)

Now, to answer some of the comments. (Leave me some questions in the comments and I'll answer what I can. For those of you who leave comments without questions, thank you for commenting and I really appreciate it. I usually don't have the time to respond as I'm rushing to get the chapter out, but I'll start replying to every comment in the future when I start getting more time. So now that you have a promise from me, you'll have to keep reviewing till then, won't you? ;))

LadyBalacenia: I'm really sorry, but I don't write lemon. I never have, and probably never will. I don't even think it's legal for me to write them (though I don't know if there's an age limit on that one.) I also have no experience whatsoever with romance, so even the kiss scenes I'm super insecure about. So if you're looking for lemons, you won't get them here. Sorry. Though, I might feel bolder in the future and drag out the snogging scenes. We'll see.

DawnMay: Okay, that was a lot of questions and most of them I can't answer. Actually, more like all of them I can't answer, except your main question. I am updating now, evidently. And I take that by 'Mia,' you mean 'Hermione?'

Name: I'm sorry about the name change, but a lot of people were saying that it was boring, and I looked at it, and I kind of agreed. The name will probably change over the span of the next couple of chapters, but it will not go back to what it was before. Sorry if it makes you enjoy the story less. :c

Thanks for your reviews! (New high! Twenty a chapter!)

LadyBalacenia, loves2readalways, maniac333, TheGirlonFire52, Slytherin ice princess, Virtuoso Wanderings, UniCryin, Fan, Weird-Chik2, voldyismyfather, morpheusandmuse, asianstotheleft, TheEscapeFromReality, tHevoLtuRi'SdARkpRiNceSS, Red Sphinx, reader204, DawnMay, Name

* * *

><p>If Hermione thought that the new Tom would last, she was horribly wrong.<p>

It took him approximately twelve hours, ten minutes and fifty two seconds to revert back to normal. But then again, Hermione couldn't be too sure, as she didn't waste time _counting_. Because that idea was just absolutely absurd.

The two of them ate breakfast together, though Jake's friend was shooting murderous looks at her throughout the meal. Hermione noticed that all the other kids were staying away from her as well, and Mrs. Cole herself didn't say a word to her. Tom seemed amused by this whole situation, and Hermione had finished her breakfast in record time and dragged him outside.

Tom cast her an amused look as the two of them headed down Diagon Alley. He had spent the last five minutes smiling politely at the girls who were swooning about him, reminding her much of Black. She absentmindedly wondered what it was like to live with Walburga for that much time. "Knut for your thoughts?"

"They're worth more than that." Hermione eyed the bookstore with interest. She could see rows and rows of books, waiting to be read. It had been a full day since she had been away from a real library. "See that store over there? I'm just going to—"

"You're not going anywhere near there," Tom said, chuckling slightly. Hermione pouted. "This whole Christmas shopping idea was your plan. I'm just an innocent victim you decided to drag along."

Hermione snorted. Tom was anything _but_ innocent. "I'll just leave you to your happy dwindling at the orphanage next time, then."

Tom ignored her comment. "I don't see why you go through all this trouble. I usually send them coal."

"That's awfully thoughtful of you," Hermione replied, grinning. "And here I thought you got them nothing."

"You truly think I'm heartless," Tom said, a look of mock hurt on his face. "Nevertheless, we're not here to buy books. I doubt Abraxas and the others would appreciate getting Hogwarts, A History for Christmas."

"Well, what else am I supposed to get them?" Hermione asked, frustrated. "A broom? They already have enough brooms for a lifetime."

"Granger, I will appreciate it if you stopped complaining," Tom drawled. "Black must've told you what he wanted for Christmas. He always does." Tom made an incredibly childish face, which caused Hermione to fall in to a giggling fit. She had never seen Tom this carefree before. Then again, she had never known about his background either.

Tom looked at her, amused, as she struggled to calm herself down. Many people stopped to see what the commotion was, and saw a silly schoolgirl nearly falling over and wetting herself. Many just rolled their eyes and kept going, but several girls glared when Tom mockingly patted Hermione on her back. It seemed that she could never truly be alone with Tom in public.

It took her a couple of minutes, and Hermione was rather surprised that Tom stayed there when he could've just left. Well, he certainly looked like he had fun mocking her. "What did Black ask for?" She asked as the two of them resumed their walking.

"Silly little things. Pokemon cards, little trinklets, other girly stuff. One year, I actually listened to his request and went to buy him a little pink bracelet. It was awfully generous of me, if I may say so." He smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Black took one look at it and threw it in the toilet. Then the toilet got clogged."

"It got clogged?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I may or may not have enlarged it," Tom shrugged.

"For someone who doesn't care about Black, you sure are spending a lot of effort to make his life worse."

Tom snickered. "It was worth it. You should've seen his face when he realized his favorite toilet was clogged."

"His favorite _toilet_?" Hermione asked, slightly scandalized. "Do I want to know what it looks like?"

"Sure you do," Tom replied easily. "It's covered in Hello Kitty."

"Liar."

"Fine. It isn't. There is this one Hello Kitty sticker near the top of the seat, though," Tom shrugged. "Black usually tries to aim for it."

Hermione gaped. "Really?"

"No. But I'm sure Black would be pleased to know your opinion of him is so high."

Before Hermione could insult him for tricking her, another voice yelled out. "Tommy!" A small girl with blonde hair came charging over and threw herself in Tom's arms. Hermione gaped as she began placing kisses all over his face. Tom, however, looked like he expected the little girl. The other girls who had been previously eyeing him deflated slightly when he smiled politely at the girl clutching his waist.

Tom set the girl down gently, which made Hermione raise an eyebrow. Tom was never gentle with anyone, except, well, her, and that was because she _earned_ it. She insulted him more than anyone else, after all.

"Hello, Scarlett," Tom said with a polite smile on his face. His mask was back on, and his face suggests no sign of the playful nature he was earlier. The little girl giggled and took his hand in hers. She could be no older than seven. "Is Eleanor around?"

With a jolt, Hermione realized that she was looking at Eleanor's younger sister. She could see the resemblance, though while Eleanor was calm and collected, her younger sister was hyper and cheerful. The little girl pouted. "You always ask for Ellie. Why don't you like me?"

"Of course I like you," That, of course, was a lie. Tom Riddle did not like anyone. He was interested in people, that was a given, but he did not like nor love. People were categorized in to three groups for him: the nuisance, the tolerable, and the interesting.

Hermione hoped that she was loitering somewhere in the interesting category.

"Sure you do," Scarlett stuck her tongue out teasingly. "Ellie's over there, with Abby. They were looking at brooms when I saw you." Scarlett made a face. "You're so much more interesting than brooms, Tommy."

"Glad to hear that," Tom shot Hermione a small wink, while she mulled over who Abby could be. To be honest, she didn't really see Eleanor with any of her friends. She never saw Eleanor outside of class, and Hermione was rarely paying attention at meal time. However, she had a suspicious who Abby was. "I personally think brooms are dreadful boring."

Hermione imagined Tom flopping around on a broom and grinned. "Now, books on the other hand…"

Tom smirked back at her. "Agreed."

Scarlett seemed to notice her for the first time and blinked at Hermione with her large eyes. They had no malice in them, though, which was a first. Then again, Eleanor had never really hated her either; the girl just didn't care what Hermione did. "Who are you?" She asked. "Are you Tommy's friend?"

"Acquaintance," Hermione correct, and Tom snorted. The two of them had agreed to start dating again last night, but they had laid down some ground rules. Hermione could absolutely not be out after hours anywhere near Nick (she protested against that,) and Tom was to absolutely make it clear that he was not available ("But that'll ruin my reputation.") Nevertheless, though both sides were not quite happy with all the arrangements, they ended up coming to an agreement. It was shaky, and Hermione doubted it would last long, but for now, it worked.

"I'm Scarlett Bletchey!" Scarlett held out her tiny hand, and Hermione bent down to shake it. "Do you know my sister? Ellie? She's in the same grade as Tommy."

"Yes, I know Eleanor," Hermione smiled gently. Something about this girl reminded her of her childhood, before her father started making her do his errands. She seemed so carefree. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a classmate of your sister."

"Nice to meet you Hermie!" The girl said cheerfully, and Tom almost fell over. Hermione glared at him. Hermie wasn't worse than Tommy, at least. At least she could look like a Hermie. Tom as a Tommy, she grinned a little at that thought.

"Scarlett, are you harassing innocent people again?" Eleanor came in to view, two bags tucked under her arm. Her eyes widened when she saw the three of them. "Oh. Not so innocent."

"Hello, Eleanor," Hermione said as Scarlett hugged her older sister around the waist. "Are you doing some Christmas shopping as well?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "No. The new model came out today, and someone just _had_ to come here the second he read the news." She glanced over her shoulder, and Hermione smiled as Abraxas came in to view, holding a package to him like it was his life.

"Abby!" Hermione laughed as Scarlett confirmed her suspcions as she threw herself at Abraxas. "Hi Abby!"

"Whoa, watch the broom, Scarlett." Abraxas held the package above his head while wrapping his other arm around Scarlett's small body and patting her back. "This is sacred right here. The newest version of the Cleansweep."

"Give it!" Scarlett put on her best mature face and reached for the box. She came up about a feet and a half short. "I want it, Abby! Give it to me!"

"You don't even like brooms," Abraxas stuck his tongue out at the little girl, holding it as high as he could. "This is _my_ broom. Get your own."

"ELLIE!" Scarlett hollered, stamping her feet down loudly, attracting many strange looks. "MAKE ABBY GIVE ME HIS BROOM."

"Wow," Hermione said, turning towards Tom. He was watching the situation with an amused look on his face. He shot her a smirk and reached for her hand. Not to be sentimental, of course, but because this little actions caused multiple girls to shoot glares at Hermione. She pushed his hand away from her and scowled. He simply grinned. The girls glared harder.

Scarlett was still yelling and screaming, causing quite a scene, and Hermione turned to Abraxas and grinned. "She's just like you," Hermione said. "Same stubbornness. I'm surprised she isn't your sister."

"Hermione?" Abraxas looked at her, as if noticing her for the first time. He accidently dropped his hands, and Scarlett snatched up the box and held it triumphantly. Eleanor scolded her sister, but Scarlett shook her head and held the box even tighter. Abraxas, however, seemed to temporarily forget about his broom. "When did you get here?"

"I've always been here," Hermione coughed, trying to cover up a laugh. She pointed to the boy next to her. "I came here with Tom."

"Tom?" Abraxas's eyes grew big. Tom merely raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Why didn't tell me you were here?"

"You were…busy." Tom drawled, gesturing towards Eleanor who had now snatched away the box and was now scowling down at a crying Scarlett. "The three of you came together?" Tom commented dryly. "How sweet."

"I suppose it is," Abraxas looked at the two of them. "And you two came together? So I guess Black was right, Hermione—you _are_ staying with Tom."

He tried to mask it, though the hurt was clearly in his voice. Hermione shook her head. "No, it was coincidental," she explained. "I asked Dumbledore to find me a hotel, and he sent me to Tom's orphanage." Hermione made a face. "Quite a pleasant place there."

"Is it really?" Abraxas' eyes lit up, and he swiveled towards Tom. "Can I—"

"Absolutely not," Tom said firmly, casting Hermione a look. Of course he had his trademark smirk was still there, but Hermione could see something else under. It looked a little like happiness, if such a thing was possible with him. He seemed relieved that there was someone else to keep him sane in the orphanage. Hermione wondered how he didn't go insane with all the years in the orphanage. But then again, maybe Tom was already insane, in his own way.

Abraxas groaned. "Alright, I see you two have this lovey-dovey thing going on," he gestured towards the two of them, not breaking eye contact with each other. "Don't let me bother you." He, Hermione realized rather amusedly, was still watching intently, as if planning to observe whatever he thought Tom and Hermione were going to do.

"Don't be silly," Hermione chided. "We're not being lovey-dovey."

"Sure," Abraxas cast them another glance, as if trying to figure what was going on between them. He got a blank look and a smirk in response. "So, what are you two doing here? I don't think that you were interested in the new broom model, were you?"

"No," Tom shrugged. "We were buying a new toilet for Black."

Hermione gaped at him. "The toilet is _still_ destroyed?"

"Whoa," Abraxas held up his hands and stared between the two of them. "Tom…did you just make a joke?"

Tom tilted his head slightly. "I don't know. Did I?"

"What did you do to him?" Abraxas asked, his eyes wide. "Did you put him under the Imperius? Or maybe you fed him some potion. Or did you polyjuice someone." He tapped Tom's forehead, much to the displeasure of the latter. "Black, is that you in there?"

Hermione was rather bewildered. "Is it that uncommon for him to joke around?" She hadn't really noticed. Tom had always been like this with her, though he was more carefree now than he was at Hogwarts.

"Yes. He's usually dark and moody and he curses everyone he sees." Abraxas looked at Tom, as if judging the boy's reaction. He didn't get any; a blank face was all he got in return.

_Dark and moody?_ She had only seen him like that once, and that was when he met his father in Little Hangleton. Sure, he had his little group meetings, but he had never invited her nor spoken about it to her. Had she really been only seeing the side he wanted her to see? Was he hiding his true personality from her?

Well, she couldn't dwell on that too much. She herself was hiding nasty secrets from him, so she didn't think it was her place to scold him.

Their conversation was interrupted when Scarlett returned Abraxas's broom to him, her head drooping slightly. Eleanor was standing with her arms crossed, a scowl present on her face. Abraxas ruffled Scarlett's hair, which seemed to improve the little girl's mood, but Eleanor's scowl only grew.

"It's time to go," Eleanor clipped angrily. Abraxas seemed rather bewildered by her sudden mood change. "Scarlett, we're leaving."

"But Ellie!" Scarlett protested. "I just met Hermie! I want to talk with her!"

Eleanor cast a glance at Hermione, completely void of emotion, before turning back to her sister. "Well, then, you can just stay with her, can't you? She'll be your new sister. You'll have no need for me." Without waiting for a response, she turned and stomped off. Scarlett ran after her, crying, while Abraxas quickly followed.

Hermione stared bewilderedly, wondering if there was something that she did wrong.

"Well," Tom chuckled after awhile. "That was interesting."

"Interesting is the correct word," Hermione said as the two of them watched the trio walk nosily down Diagon Alley. Eleanor seemed to be parting the crowd with her angry stampede, and she shrugged off every attempt Abraxas did to put his hand on her shoulder. He eventually gave up and trailed behind with a crying Scarlett in tow.

"That girl is so dramatic," Tom rolled his eyes. He cast Hermione a sideways glance. "You won't do that to me, won't you?" He reached for her hand again, but she pushed it away a second time.

"Abraxas _was_ right!" Hermione gasped. "I _have_ turned you in to a romantic sap!"

Tom groaned. "Could you have thought of a worse mood killer?"

Hermione giggled, but her mood was immediately dampened when one of the girls who had been eyeing Tom came up. "Um." She cast a nervous glance at Hermione, who didn't do anything, and the turned to Tom with a small smile on her face. "Hi."

Tom cast Hermione a look, which caused her to momentarily freeze. _Is he actually considering my feelings for once? _She thought mockingly. Tom seemed to read her thoughts, because he grinned and then turned back to the trembling girl in front of him.

Hermione watched them converse for awhile, as more and more girls crowded around Tom. Strangely enough, she wasn't jealous. She had discovered that she wasn't going to be those shallow girls who would get upset every time another girl talked to Tom. Tom could do whatever he wanted, and it wasn't her right to stop him.

"I see the gears turning,"

Hermione turned around and grinned. "Hey Nick. Fancy running in to you here."

Nick snorted, running his hand through his blue hair. Hermione noticed that he was getting his share of stares as well. "You're the one who invited me here, Hermione."

"I suppose I did," Hermione gestured towards Tom, who quite surprisingly was keeping his hands to himself. He seemed to be holding up his end of the bargain, much to Hermione's surprise. "I kind of expected this to happen. I always need a backup plan."

"So, I've been reduced from 'best friend' to 'backup plan?'" Hermione merely grinned. Nick frowned slightly. "Why were you with him in the first place?"

"I asked Dumbledore for a hotel," she said. "I can't go back to him because of the tracking devices. Not that I want to, though I'd go if he was dressed up as Santa and singing next to the Christmas tree." Nick snorted at the imagery. "Somehow, Dumbledore decided to send me to an _orphanage_. It also happened to be Tom's orphanage."

"Riddle lives in an orphanage?" Nick's eyebrows shot up. He glanced over at Tom. "I never would've guessed."

"Neither would I." Hermione paused. "They were mean to him in the orphanage, Nick. They were breaking him down emotionally?"

"Who, Riddle?" Nick asked. "Riddle can be broken down _emotionally_? Are you sure we're talking about the same person? And for the sake of the argument, even if he had been broken down, I'm sure he's more than capable of defending himself."

"Dumbledore took his wand."

"Can't he do anything else?"

Hermione snorted. "Can you imagine Tom doing a karate kick?" Nick shook his head, and Hermione laughed. "I didn't think so."

"Well, I'm not saying it's right for him to be bullied," Nick said. "But I'm not saying that he doesn't completely deserve it either."

"Fair enough."

Nick looked at her. "So what are you two doing here? Don't tell me you're on a date and you want me to be the third wheel, because I'm going to get out of here if that's the case." He grinned cheekily. "Your boyfriend hates me already."

"Don't be silly. He does not," That was a lie, and both of them knew it. "We're Christmas shopping, and I thought you might want to buy some gifts away from the Weasleys."

"I'm touched that you care," Nick replied. Hermione swatted at him. "I, though, unlike you, have already bought my gifts years ago. You, however, are cramming on the last day." He smirked. "For someone who is so persistent on finishing her homework weeks before, you sure are a procrastinator when it comes to other things."

"You keep talking and you'll get nothing for Christmas."

Nick held his hands up in defeat and then jerked his head to the right. "I can see you looking at the bookstore. Want to go in?"

Hermione glanced over at Tom, who was still engaged his multiple conversations. Plus, those books looked awfully tempting, and Hermione nodded towards Nick. She would have plenty of time to spend with Tom, now that she was living in the orphanage. The books, on the other hand… "Lead the way."

Hermione allowed herself indulge in books for awhile, not even letting Nick disturb her. He had come over and tempted her with more books, but she simply swatted him away and he eventually got the hint. However, it didn't stop him from teasingly thrusting his hand in front of her vision, blocking her view. She had chased after him and kicked him in the ankle, never taking her eyes away from the words. He eventually settled next to her quietly, reading his own book.

It had been too long since she had been away from books. Too long. Just one glance at these books informed her of how behind she was in her studies. It was the best time to study now; Tom obviously wasn't doing any work at the orphanage, so it was a good chance for her to pull ahead.

Unfortunately, Tom had other ideas.

Tom Riddle marched in to the bookstore, a murderous glare on his face. He looked around, and before Hermione could have time to hide, he stomped over. He seemed to have no idea about the strange glances he was receiving. The other shoppers were staring at the usually charming and polite Tom scowl like a little kid who didn't receive a Christmas present.

Nick moved closer to her, a frown on his face, but Tom didn't notice him. Instead, he grabbed her arm roughly, and to Hermione's embarrassment, a whimper left her mouth. "What do you think you're doing?" Tom hissed.

"Um." Hermione held up a book. "Reading?" He was still looking at her angrily, and she fidgeted. "Are you mad because I'm trying to get ahead of you in class?"

"No." Tom said shortly. "It doesn't matter. I'll beat you anyway."

Hermione scowled and crossed her arms the best she could with his tight grip still on her arm. "Aren't you modest."

"What were you doing, coming here by yourself?" Tom asked, though Hermione saw that most of his anger had melted away. Instead, there was something else in his expression, something she had never seen before. "I thought…"

He trailed off, and Hermione gaped at him. She had seen Tom Riddle do a lot of things, ranging from bad to worse to plain stupid. However, she had never seen him _speechless_. "Did you think I would leave you to the orphanage by yourself?" She asked. He didn't answer, but the loosening of his grip was enough of a response.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. Tom's scowl only grew as he glowered at her. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Yes, I believe I am," Hermione said, wiping fake tears. "Who would've guessed that under all that macho you had, you were afraid of being left by yourself?"

Tom's angry look vanished once he realized that she was teasing him. Hermione was glad that he had stopped looking like he was going to murder her. Instead, he simply frowned and said, "Are you making fun of me?"

"Maybe I am," Hermione laughed. "Too bad you're not like this at Hogwarts. I bet everyone would love to see your 'little small boy' personality."

"They would love me no matter _how_ I acted," Tom replied arrogantly.

"I'm sure they would."

Nick chose that moment to jump in, giving Tom a huge, cheesy smile. "Hey Riddle. Long time no see."

"Porter?" Tom's scowl returned. He looked between the two of them. "Did you invite him?"

"There's no need to get so angry," Hermione patted his arm mockingly. "I'm sure Nick can chip in some suggestions on what he wants you to get him from Christmas. Right Nick?"

The look on both of their faces told her exactly what they thought of that idea. The two of them spent the majority of the remainder of the trip ignoring her, but she was glad that the two of them followed her nonetheless. They watched her go in to countless stores, picking out item after item, all while standing there quietly and glaring at each other.

Maybe there would come a day where the three of them could talk civilly.

Though, Hermione watched as Nick said something that caused Tom to scowl, that dream was still a long distance away.

ஐ

It was Christmas Eve. The snowflakes were following outside, covering the ground with a white blanket.

Hermione Granger lay awake in a dark room, her wrists and ankles tied together with ropes. They dug in to her skin every time she moved, though the pain didn't stop her as she gritted her teeth and worked at the knots with her fingers.

They were too easy, as if they wanted her to get free. Once her hands were free, it took her a couple of seconds to untie the ropes bounding her ankles, and then she was sprinting down the stairs. Because she recognized this house, and it was bad if her suspicious were correct.

As she entered the dimly lit room below, it was clear that her suspicious were correct. Hermione's heart dropped when the first person she saw was one that she did not want to see.

"Hermione, dear, how nice of you to join us," Her father sat at one end of the table, looking quite majestic. There were about eight other people in the room, though there were all masked so Hermione couldn't tell who they were. "Please sit."

The glint in his eyes clearly informed her that she had no other choice, and she sat as far away from him and all the other people as possible. Grindelwald raised an eyebrow, but she paid him no mind. "Father," she said as politely as she could, and saw one of the masked figures wince slightly. Interesting. "What about the tracking devices?"

"They have been taking care of," Grindelwald nodded, glancing slightly at the wincing person. They sat up straighter, as if praised. "Not hard to do, I must say, since they were created by Dippet." The wincing person deflated visibly.

"Why am the only one not masked?"

Grindelwald chuckled. "Always so many questions. You are not masked because you chose not to wear yours. That is hardly my fault."

"I never got a mask," Hermione said blankly, though quite frankly, she didn't want one. Why would she want to cover her face and roam around like that? It was shameful, in her opinion. Of course, telling that to her father would be a death sentence.

"You didn't?" Grindelwald sounded genuinely surprised as he looked around. "Who was in charge of giving my daughter her uniform?" No one spoke up, though Hermione did notice the wincing person tense slightly. It seemed like Hermione had already made an enemy, in this group of strangers.

"Don't worry, we'll get you a new one," Her father said, like it was the biggest honor in the world, and Hermione couldn't do anything but nod politely. Grindelwald then gestured around and said, "For the purpose of secrecy, we will use numbers to address each other in this meeting. We have some new recruits, you see, that I don't plan on sharing quite yet."

Grindelwald then went on to explain how everyone's voice was altered so that it was impossible to guess the person hidden under the mask. The more Hermione listened, the angrier she got. This whole thing sounded like his warped way of toying with her. Here she was, fully exposed, and she couldn't even learn the identities of her father's minions? She knew Russell, of course. She had seen him around since she was a baby. Stalin too, but she had no idea who the rest were. She didn't even have an inkling.

"My Lord," the person who didn't like Hermione began. They had been given the number 'one,' much to their pleasure. One bowed their head slightly. "The murder of Erica Belby is now being investigated, though it seems like Dumbledore has closed it up and Hogwarts will be back open."

One seemed awfully proud of themselves, until Grindelwald said, "We wouldn't have needed to get in this whole mess if you didn't let her nor her friend witness your potion." One sank lower in their chair.

_Potion_?

"We listened in on their meeting," another person, who, though hidden by a mask, didn't look too old. His posture looked somewhat familiar as well. Much to Hermione's surprise, she could see the person holding the hand of the person next to them. Sentimentalism wasn't common among her father's followers. "There is no sign they suspect One."

Hermione blanched. 'One' was most definitely the spy at Hogwarts, and it seemed like both Erica and Daisy were murdered by One. Hermione stared hard, but could not find any sign that would give One's identity away.

Five sounded like the other spy, though Hermione had no idea who Five was either. This whole mask and identity and voice altering thing was stupid. She had no idea who they were, and they all knew who she was. Knowing her father, that was probably his plan.

She wondered how far she could make it if she jumped out of her seat and ripped the mask off One's face. Seeing how close One was to her father, not very far. Then again, her father might let her as a source of entertainment. With him, nothing was predictable, though that wasn't a good thing.

"Good work, Five." Hermione didn't know how her father could call his followers _numbers_ and not laugh at the situation, but he seemed to manage. Not even _Tom _did that, though Hermione didn't know all the specifics of his little meetings. Five bowed slightly, but there was nothing else, unlike One, who was kissing up to Grindelwald.

_Why would anyone want to kiss up to him?_

Grindelwald turned his blue eyes to her, and she had to fight the urge to shiver. They looked like Dumbledore's eyes, except they were brighter and fiercer. The two of them were quite alike, yet entirely different at the same time, if such was possible. "And what about you, my daughter?" She hated his title for her. All eyes swung to her. "What news have you got for us?"

_How am I supposed to give news when I have no idea what the mission is?_

"Um." Hermione said the first thing that popped in to her head. "When Abraxas Malfoy was sent to jail for murdering Daisy, someone polyjuiced as Kingsley Shacklebolt and freed him."

"It wasn't me!" One immediately squeaked in denial.

Grindelwald ignored One. "Abraxas Malfoy, hm?" He raised an eyebrow, and Hermione immediately regretted bringing him up in the first place. Hadn't she vowed to keep her friends out of all business with her father? "I've been told that you've been becoming quite close to your friends, Hermione."

One look at One informed Hermione who exactly did the telling. Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir." She remembered how he had reacted the last time he learned of her friends. It wasn't something she wanted to repeat.

To her amazement, her father smiled at her and said, "Who else?"

Hermione stared back, but whatever his hidden motif was, he wasn't showing it. He simply beamed at her, a look that was foreign on her father's face. It made him seem normal, when he was clearly far from it. "Uh. Orion, Cygnus, and Violetta?" She had no idea what her father wanted her to say, and she wasn't going to go naming Gryffindors. She had a feeling he wouldn't react well to that fact.

Grindelwald's eyes glinted. "What about Tom Riddle?"

Hermione opened her mouth, and then closed it. One decided to jump in and said, "Subject is quite smitten with her, my Lord."

_Subject? Tom is a SUBJECT?_

"Good." Grindelwald's glance was calculating as he surveyed her. He looked prideful, but with what? Tom wasn't _smitten_ when her, as One put it. The two of them just decided to get over their differences and try to speak to each other without killing each other. That hardly counted as _smitten_. Tom was interested with her at most.

Speaking with Tom, she had an appointment to keep with him. She promised the two of them would go to one of her favorite Italian restaurants as soon as she woke up. It looked like she couldn't keep her promise. She hoped he wouldn't be mad. She _really_ didn't have a choice, but she couldn't tell him why.

He had other things to do with his time, didn't he? She wasn't the only thing in his life, after all. He would manage fine without her.

"Hermione, dear," Grindelwald said. "You are going to use Tom Riddle to get at Dumbledore, do you understand?"

She was confused. "How?"

"You aggravate the subject as much as possible," One said, sounding bored. Hermione hated how she kept referring to Tom as the subject, like he was some lab rat they were experimenting on. Tom was better than most people in this room in so many ways. "He'll take his anger out on Dumbledore."

The plan was so strange, Hermione knew almost instantly that they were just trying to get her to do something unwillingly. Something that had to do with the real mission that she wasn't told about. She was going to do it accidently, because she had no idea what _not_ to do. "Tom's not easy to aggravate." She finally said, swallowing all the questions she was longing to ask.

"Oh, good, you're already on first name basis." Grindelwald sounded _giddy_, like a child opening his present. Over the years she had known him, he had never sounded anything close to giddy. "Just do what I tell you to do, Hermione, and send me frequent updates." He must've noted her hesitation, because he added, "You know what will happen to you if you defy me, don't you?"

Hermione bowed her head. Yes, she did. The consequences weren't pretty, and they certainly weren't worth it. The task wasn't even hard. Just spend some more time with Tom, which she had been planning to do, as her presence just naturally aggravated him most of the time, and send her father notices. "Yes, sir."

"Why don't you say them out loud for everyone?" Grindelwald suggested smoothly.

Hermione gritted her teeth. He was obviously trying to humiliate her, and unfortunately, it was working. "You'll kill everyone I care about. Like Violetta, Abraxas, Cygnus and Orion."

One was clapping rather insanely, and didn't seem to care that everyone thought they were crazy. Her father simply ignored One and said, "And don't forget Nick."

Nick was actually the person she was least worried about. Nick knew how to defend himself, and Nick knew exactly how dangerous her father was. But then again, Nick had angered her father, and Grindelwald wasn't known for being a forgiving person.

However, not wanting to anger her father anymore than she had already, she simply said, "Yes, sir."

"Excuse me, my Lord?" Seven interrupted, raising their hand hesitantly. Grindelwald nodded at him, and their swiveled their body to look at Hermione. "Did she say she _cared_ about them?" Hermione could almost see the frown on their face.

"Yes!" One cackled gleefully before Grindelwald had a chance to respond. "She's a terrible spy, caring for subjects. She's letting her _feelings_ get in the way." One snickered. "They're all so annoying. I say, get rid of them all!"

"That's how you got in trouble," Five reminded One, who scowled but thankfully fell silent.

"Normally, I would punish all those who let their feelings get in their way," Hermione winced slightly, but her father didn't seem to notice. Not that he would've cared if he had noticed. He was especially known for adding salt to a wound. "But in Hermione's case, it is different." He didn't elaborate on why it was different, though everyone else seemed to understand. Everyone else, that is, but Hermione.

"Can I know what exactly my mission is?" Hermione asked, not caring that she sounded rude. Wouldn't it make more sense if she actually knew what she was supposed to do? It would be much faster for her to make it a goal than waiting for her to accidently stumble upon it.

"Now, darling, good things come to those who wait," Grindelwald said, though Hermione doubted that anything good would come out of her running around clueless, right under the nose of Albus Dumbledore. "Besides, you are known for being sloppy. We wouldn't want Dumbledore to find out the plan from you, would we?"

Of course. Her father cared more about the mission than about her. There was nothing new about that, though it still stung. It stung that he obviously trusted One enough to let _them_ run around under Dumbledore's nose with the whole mission in their head. "How am I sloppy?"

"Well," Grindelwald sighed dramatically. "It took you about two days to let your feelings get in your way, didn't it?" He gestured towards One and Five, the former sighting up straighter while the latter showed no signs of having heard Grindelwald at all. "One and Five have been spies for so many years, and they didn't let their feelings get in their way." Hermione looked pointedly at Five, who was still holding hands with the person next to them. Grindelwald caught her glance and said, "That's a relationship I approve of, Hermione. Everyone here is aiming for the same goal, while I can't say the same for _your_ friends."

One cackled again, the sound really destroying Hermione's ears. "_This is sacred right here. The newest version of the Cleansweep._"

Hermione froze. One was _spying_ on her! One was the person who had been doing all the spying on her at Hogwarts, planting the bugs. Was that _Eileen?_ However, Hermione couldn't imagine Eileen cackling like that. Hermione's mouth worked before she could stop it. "_Eileen?_"

One didn't hesitate at all and cackled again. "I'm not Eileen."

One could've lied, but Hermione couldn't help but start growing doubts. What if the spy wasn't Eileen? Was _Five_ Eileen? This was all so confusing. She was a puzzle piece in this elaborate mission that she had no info about.

"Before you go on your guessing spree, Hermione," Grindelwald interrupted. "I have some news for you from your friends." He laughed as Hermione visibly tensed, murmurs going around the room. People were mumbling about 'letting her feelings get in the way,' but Hermione ignored them. "Relax, my daughter, nothing bad has happened to them. Yet."

That hardly was a reassurance, coming from her father. She nodded at him to go on. _Pleading_ him to go on. She would never forgive herself if something happened to them.

"They seemed to be quite thoughtfully," Grindelwald continued. "They sent you gifts. Imagine that. _Gifts._" Hermione didn't know where he was getting at. "Seeing how you had no need for them, I burned them. Your friend, Orion Black, was it? He even gave you a cat." Grindelwald's eyes glinted. "I burned it in the fire place. You can go pick up its scorched furs, if you would like."

One immediately began clapping delightfully again, but Hermione felt sick, resisting the urge to vomit all over the table. How could he _burn_ a living animal just because he deemed that she didn't _need_ it? How was she going to explain it to Black? _I'm sorry, but my dad burned the cat you gave me. I still have the tail though. _It was an awfully thoughtful gift as well. She always wanted a cat, and she told Black just once. She was grateful that he remembered, but his kindness just made the pain so much worse.

She briefly wondered if she was hurting them by caring for them more than leaving them alone, but Grindelwald immediately crushed that idea. "You will continue showing your…feelings." He spat the word out as if he was a curse. "If I learn that you have decided to break things off with your friends, they will pay, do you understand? And I will not be as lenient to them as I was to the cat."

_As if burning to death wasn't bad enough. _Hermione had long given up and trying to figure out what her father's plan with it. The only thing she could do now was to go along with it."Yes, sir."

Grindelwald nodded and stood up, the rest of the table rising with him. Hermione was the last one up, trying to resist the urge to punch her father. Looking at her streak, she'd say she got a good chance of hitting a pretty painful part, but she didn't want anyone else to suffer her consequences. "Meeting is dismissed."

The rest of the people started moving away to their respective rooms. One stayed to converse with Grindelwald, with three or four people behind her. Several people bumped in to Hermione, and glared at her the best they could with their masks on. She simply ignored them and headed towards her room, plotting a way to escape.

Five came up to her, and she looked at them expectantly. Five's hand holding companion was nowhere to be seen. Five's hand came up and touched her arm gently. They seemed to be trying to convey a message to her. Unfortunately for them, Hermione was not in the mood to try and decipher what Five was trying to say under their mask.

Hermione wretched her arm away and ran to her room. It was the same room she had woke up in; completely empty except for the chair she had been placed in. She quickly shut the door and locked it before she sank to the floor and let the first tears fall.

ஐ

Hermione didn't know how long she slept. She was only aware of the endless nightmares that plagued her mind that were interrupted only by her waking up screaming. She was sure everyone else could hear her as well, but none of them came. One did pop their head in once and laugh at Hermione, before leaving.

_Nice cheerful group of people they are._

The floor wasn't terribly comfortable either. The chair had been taken away as a joke, so Hermione was left with a room with no windows and one almost broken door. But then again, she could consider this an improvement. Knowing her father's sense of amusement, she should be glad that she wasn't tossed in a room with spikes.

_That wouldn't be the first time._

There was one time, when she was five. She accidently kissed Nick. She had tripped and fell on top of him, and his lips barely brushed against hers when he turned his head. They was barely any contact, but her father had been in the room meeting with a couple of others. They weren't his followers. It was more like they had something he wanted, and he was negotiating for it. Nevertheless, whistles and calls of 'incest' could be heard in the room.

Her father didn't get what he wanted from the meeting, so he decided that his two children would have to pay.

Nick was almost drowned, taken out of the water before he could. He was given a couple of breaths in between, before he was dunked back in. To this day, Hermione knew that Nick was still rather wary about approaching water. He had quickly learned how to swim from Hermione, just in case, and then stayed away from it as best as he could.

Hermione had been set on a broom that was tied to the ceiling. Grindelwald invited a few friends over and they threw spikes at her. She eventually slipped off, grabbing the broom with her left hand. Her father then lobbed a spike at her arm, and she slipped and fell. Her father wouldn't let her die, but he didn't cushion her fall by too much either.

She still had the scars on her body, as well as the fear of heights.

They were only five when this happened. Five. Hermione had learned since then that defying her father wasn't the smartest thing to do. For Nick, however, it only seemed to spark his defying streak.

Hermione was woken by the smell of burning. She opened her eyes to see a person standing in front of her. She couldn't see who the intruder was, as the room was completely dark, so she opened her mouth to scream. She didn't think that would do any good; they would all just think it was another nightmare and none of them would come and save her, but the intruder placed their hand on her mouth, muffling her.

Maybe it'd be better if the intruder just killed her now. Her friends would be safe. If the intruder wanted to use her as a hostage, they weren't going to get anything. Her father certainly wasn't going to waste anything on her.

"Shhh." Hermione jolted and stared bewildered at the shape in front of her. The intruder's breath was warm against her freezing skin. She hadn't realized how cold it was. "I'm going to let go of your mouth now. Don't scream."

Once the hand was taken away, Hermione gaped. "_Nick?_"

"Trust it to you to get in so much trouble," he pulled her to her feet. "Come on, we have to get out of here. It won't be long until Grindelwald notices the wards are down."

"The _wards_?" Hermione squeaked as Nick pulled on her arm, trying to get her to move. "H-how did you get in here in the first place?"

Nick gestured towards the wall. "I burned a hole in the wall. Look." Indeed he did. There was a perfect circle in the center of the wall, and Hermione could see that they weren't too far off the ground. She allowed herself to be dragged out of the room, before Nick placed his arm around her and apparated them away.

They landed in the middle of an unknown forest. Hermione looked at Nick questioningly, but Nick placed his finger on his lips and pointed to the ground. Hermione looked down and gaped. Tom lay there, clearly have been knocked out. She glanced back up at Nick, bewildered, and Nick grinned sheepishly.

"Your little boyfriend was quite worried about you," Nick said, sitting down. She sat down as well, poking Tom to make sure he was still alive. His skin was still warm, and Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief. "When you disappeared, he went looking for you. He even came to _me_." Nick laughed, which was quite the opposite of what Hermione was currently feeling. "Imagine my surprise when he turned up on the Weasley household and threatened to murder me if I didn't tell him where you were. Ron wanted to curse him."

"What happened then?" Hermione asked, thinking that there was no possible way that this situation would end up well.

"He apparated us away before Ron could get his parents. I'm going have a lot of explaining to do when I get back." Nick gestured around. "He took us to here. Apparently, we're in Albania."

"_Albania?_"

"I don't know. That's what Riddle told me. Awfully gloomy place, isn't it?" Nick looked around. "Nevertheless, Riddle blurted out some nonsense, and I somehow got the gist of things. He helped me alter the wards, without his knowledge, of course."

"Then what?"

"Oh, then the questioning began. You have no idea how much questions he has. It was terrible. I thought it would never end. _Then_ he tried to Imperius me," Nick rolled his eyes. "Such a nice and caring boyfriend you have there."

"And then?"

"And then he began attacking me, and I dodged. He's actually quite good with his wand. I got hit with a couple of minor ones." Nick held out his arm and Hermione could see several deep wounds that he had obviously healed hastily.

"Oh," Hermione stared. "I'm sorry. Tom didn't mean it. He wasn't thinking clearly."

"I wasn't blaming him." Nick said, though the look on his face clearly said that he was. "I couldn't tell him about where you were, though. You know why." Hermione nodded. "I was about to pull out my wand, then I was aware that he _had_ my wand, when he just knocked himself out."

"What?" Hermione squeaked, looking down at Tom.

"He ran in to a tree." Nick rolled his eyes. "The mighty Tom Riddle ran in to a tree. I really wish I had a camera. That was priceless. Want me to reenact it?" Nick stood up, but was promptly pulled down by Hermione.

"Stop that," she hissed, and then examined his arm. "Here, Nick. Don't move." She took out her wand. "I'm going to patch this up."

"You don't have to."

"Of _course_ I have to!" Hermione said, scandalized. "You're my best friend, Nick, and you just risked your life to come save you. You know how dangerous it was for you to go back. He hates you enough already." She looked at him, but his expression was unreadable. "How did you know I was there?"

"Lucky guess."

Hermione had a feeling there was something that he wasn't telling her, but she let it go. That was a discussion for another day. She muttered a few spells under her breath, and Nick's skin started to heal. She rubbed her hand over it when she felt another hand on her shoulder.

"_There you are._" Tom hissed, clearly awake and angry, glowering down at her. His eyes flicked up to Nick. "Porter, get out of here."

"Now, just wait a second." Hermione began bossily, but Tom cut her off.

"You said you would not talk to Porter after hours," Tom said, glaring at Nick. "We had an agreement, Hermione, or did you forget already?"

"After hours?" Hermione screeched at him. "This is not Hogwarts, Tom!"

"It's okay." Nick stood up, his face blank. Hermione looked at him, but she got nothing. "I was just heading off. Thanks for my arm, Hermione."

Hermione whirled back to Tom. "The least you could do is say sorry to him."

"Sorry?" Tom said, the thought clearly having never crossed his mind. "Why would I _apologize_ to Porter?"

"I don't know, maybe for cursing him?"

"He deserved it."

Hermione put everything she had in her glare. "_Tom. Marvolo. Riddle._" Nick snickered, and both of them turned to glare at him.

"Fine." Tom scowled. "I'm sorry." Then, he added in a quieter voice. "For not hurting you more."

Hermione frowned, but she could've sworn that Nick grinned as he turned around, gave them a small wave, and then apparated away. Hermione shook her head. _Boys._

And then it was just she and Tom left in the forest, somewhere in Albania.

Tom grabbed her arm. "Where were you? How could you _leave_ me? How _dare_ you leave me?"

Tom's words sounded like threats, but she was so touched that he cared so much that she decided to let that little fact go. "I didn't leave you on purpose," she explained. "I was kidnapped."

It was technically true. Hermione wondered who it was that took her out of the orphanage. From the looks of things, it was probably One. She was going to have to charm the windows and doors shut from now on.

"_Kidnapped_?" Tom's anger rose. "How _dare_ they kidnap you!" He grabbed her other arm and inspected her. "Did they hurt you?"

"No." She looked at him and saw him looked back at her intensely. Before she could say anything, he pulled her in and kissed her hard. He released her arms and she wrapped them around his neck, pressing against him until there was nothing left in between them.

When Tom finally broke the kiss, Hermione was breathing hard and she reached the nearest tree to steady herself. Tom was peering at her, having appeared to slightly calm down. His hands were still clenched in fists, though.

"I'm okay, Tom." She told him sincerely. It was the truth; for now, she was okay. She was okay until her father discovered that she had escaped. She was okay until he decided to call her back again. She had no idea how long he had planned to keep her in there.

"How did Porter know you were there?" Tom asked.

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "I asked him that too, but he didn't tell me." Hermione glanced at Tom. "I heard that you took down the wards, did you? That's quite difficult."

"Yes, I did." Tom cast her a sideways glance. "How did you know it was difficult? Did you try?"

"Yes." She didn't, in fact. She knew her father's magic well enough to know that there was no way she was going to break down his wards any time soon, but she couldn't say that to him, as it would raise a lot of questions. However, the fact that Tom managed to take it down really said a lot about his abilities, though she never doubted them before. "It didn't work."

A small smile crossed his face. "Just another place where I beat you."

Hermione smacked him gently, but noticed that he winced. She took in the dark bruise beginning to form on his forehead and slightly traced it with her finger. He didn't move, just traced her movement with his eyes.

"Is that where you ran in to a tree?" She asked.

Tom snorted. "That makes it so less flattering."

Hermione blinked at him. "How can I make running in to a tree sound _flattering_?"

"I don't know. I walked stylishly in to the tree, thinking of my girlfriend, who once again needed me to save her?"

Hermione tried to not let her happiness show as he said the word 'girlfriend' once again. "You keep talking, I'll add another bruise to your face. I think the two I've made so far enhance your handsomeness."

"You think I'm handsome?" Tom asked, his smirk back on as he stood up, offering her a hand to pull her up.

"I never said that." Hermione declined his hand and stood up by herself.

"Sure." He grinned at her, and then a thought seemed to occur to him as his grin slid off his face. Hermione glanced at him questioningly. "What did they do to you, if they didn't harm you? They didn't just lock you up, did they?"

She shouldn't have told him, but Hermione found her mouth opening against her own will. "They were trying to break me down emotionally," Hermione shrugged. "I got over it. Just took two hours of crying to do that."

Hermione found herself being crushed in to his hug. His hands went in her hair and he stroked it softly. Hermione looked up at him, rather shocked, and found him staring intensely down at her. She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it.

"Before you say the worst mood killer of the century," Tom said, stepping back to allow some space between the two of them. His hand still lingered in her hair, though. "You should probably savor that moment. Rest assured, it will never happen again."

Hermione found herself grinning. The sight of Tom hugging was something that she didn't _want_ to see again. Not that she didn't like it, but it was too weird for him, and he was extremely out of character. But then again, he had been extremely out of character ever since the break begun. So had she, for the matter. Must've been the lack of books that caused them to act like this. "Just like you won't run in to a tree again?"

Tom scowled and stepped away, whatever romantic mood that had previously been in the air vanished. However, Hermione didn't mind the playful nature that replaced the romantic nature. She couldn't spend _too_ much time snogging Tom; she wasn't that type of girl, after all. "I told you you'd come up with a mood killer," Tom sighed. "You'll never let that go, will you?"

"Nope."

"Doesn't it count for anything that I was trying to save you from your kidnappers?"

"Nope." _The kidnappers are quite interested in you, actually_. Hermione looked at him sadly. She couldn't let her father get any of her friends, but most of all, not Tom. Tom was powerful. If he were to be controlled, Hermione didn't think that even Dumbledore could beat him and Grindelwald.

"Come on," Tom held out his hand to her. "Cole is bound to notice that I've broken the window to get out. Jake was the first person who found that you weren't in your room. Cole immediately taped my window shut and locked me in my room, something about promising Dumbledore." Tom rolled his eyes. "As if duct tape could stop me."

"You broke a window?"

"What else was I supposed to do? No wand, remember?" Tom sighed. "Stupid Dumbledore. If he hadn't taken my wand, none of this would've happened."

"How did you move the wards, then?"

"Porter lent me his wand. He finally realized that I am superior to him in every category, and that includes wand work." Tom said. "Shame that I didn't curse him further. He was completely defenseless, after all."

Hermione frowned. "That's not nice."

"_I'm_ not nice." Tom pointed out. "Though I suppose I should be grateful. He did bring you back to me, after all. I'll try to refrain myself from hurting him _too_ much next time."

"He did not bring me back to _you_," Hermione said. "I am not a possession that you lost."

"Oh, but you _are_," Tom purred, leaning closer. Hermione pushed him away.

"I don't like it when you're like that."

"Like what? Kissable?"

Hermione laughed, but shook her head. "Like flirty. I told you before, Tom. You can't get whatever you want from me by offering to kiss me. You'll have to try harder than that."

Tom frowned. "I wasn't offering to kiss you. But nice to know that your mind immediately jumped to conclusions."

Hermione swatted at him. "_You_ are insufferable."

Tom smirked. "Do you like me better like this?"

"I suppose." Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "Now, finish what you started. Kiss me."

"I don't think I will," Tom said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "You're the one who wanted to kiss me. _I_ offered no such thing. So no, I won't kiss you." He mimicked her. "You'll have to try harder than that."

Hermione growled and then pounced on him. Tom sidestepped neatly, a smirk on his face, as he grabbed her hand. His other hand went in to her pocket, retrieved her wand, and then apparated them away.

Hermione forgot to ask why exactly Tom knew this forest in Albania, so far away from his orphanage.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>During the Grindelwald scene, I am aware that I use 'them' and 'their' instead of 'him/she' and 'his/her.' I purposely did that so the gender of the person was not revealed, though it did get confusing after awhile.


	21. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: **This will be the last chapter for awhile. My finals end on the nineteenth, so I'll probably start another chapter after that. Title and summary are still pending; I've read all of your suggestions (thank you!) but I haven't really had chance to sit down and think about it. So the title and summary will remain what it is until my finals are over. And thanks for the birthday wishes. (:

Also. Those of you who asked for hints, I will give none. I am terrible at giving hints and might as well give the whole thing away if I opened my mouth. However, I will say that you learn the genders of Five and One in this chapter, and some other goodies.

Also, I am planning to rewrite the first couple of chapters a bit.

And these book covers are quite cool, don't you think? Except they're so small that you can't really see much. The Hermione picture had the words 'I am a mystery' on it, which I thought was quite fitting for this story. Unfortunately, I doubt you can see it.

Aand...would anyone be interested in being my beta?

Anon: Thanks for reviewing! Yes, I do generally update Friday-Sunday every week, but since finals and summer are coming out, that schedule goes out the window.

Thanks for reviewing!

Virtuoso Wanderings, asianstotheleft, Weird-Chik2, LadyBalacenia, TheEscapeFromReality, Lost O'Fallon Girl, reader204, voldyismyfather, tHevoLtuRi'SdARkpRiNceSS, MIGHTY RULER OF GUMMY BEARS, harmonious, UniCryin, morpheusandmuse, crazyjr, Anon, Beaufale, Asarin159, hateme101, xXDragonSlayerXx, ruan-san, ShadowAngel55

* * *

><p>"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"<p>

The door in front of them flew open reveling Abraxas and Black, grinning happily. Abraxas was in his normal robes, though there was a bright red ribbon tied in his hair, most definitely Black's work. Black, however, went all out. He was dressed in a Santa suit, even going as far to charm his belly so that it expanded for the time being. A hat was placed on his head, slightly lopsided. He twirled a candy cane around his finger excitedly.

The first thing that popped out of Tom's mouth in the morning was 'It's Christmas. I can officially get out of this hellhole.' No 'Good morning, Hermione' nor 'Merry Christmas.' He simply grabbed her arm, grabbed her wand, and apparated the two of them away.

Apparently, Dumbledore and Tom had an agreement. Tom would stay at the orphanage until Christmas without killing anyone, and then Tom would be allowed to go anywhere he wanted. Of course, he still did not have his wand, so he usually set up a spot far away from the orphanage for Abraxas or Black to come pick him up.

However, now that Hermione was here, he had no need for that. She tried to reason with him, to say that since she was transporting to and from, he should owe her something. Tom then launched in to an entire speech on how in the past, women were bound to their husbands and had to do everything they were told. He had been so in to his speech that Hermione decided to let him rant and not point out the fact that times were different, and he was most definitely not her husband.

By doing so, he effectively avoided any questions from Hermione, and she learned to just apparate him whenever he wanted to be apparated.

"Hi Black," Hermione greeted cheerfully, and Black crushed her in to a massive hug. Hermione could see a Christmas tree behind him, and was rather shocked that the Malfoys even had something like that to begin with. She always thought the tree was a muggle idea, but that obviously wasn't the case. A huge star was placed on the tree. How long ago had it been since she last set up a Christmas tree? It had to be at least a decade. "Merry Christmas, Santa Clause."

"You can tell what I am, cant you?" Black asked excitedly, stepping back to allow her some room to breathe. Tom looked like he didn't appreciate the contact, but Hermione had learned long ago that there was too much stuff in the world that Tom did not like. "Abraxas here was insulting my magic casting abilities. I even did this nonverbally, and he couldn't give me a single praise." Black sniffled dramatically. "Oh, how you hate me."

Abraxas merely rolled his eyes, and then looked at the luggage that Hermione was lugging behind her. "Do you need some help with that?" he asked. "I'll get one of the servants to help you."

"Absolutely not." Hermione said firmly. "I can do it myself. Lavender and Harry have enough on their hands." She wanted to speak with Harry about something that had been on her mind for quite a while now.

Black peered around her at her luggage, a huge grin on his face. "Speaking of luggage, where's King Phillip Galapagos Jr.?" He asked. "I hope he's not in the luggage. He'll die of suffocation."

Hermione was bewildered. "Who?"

"The cat I sent you," he said, still looking around her as if the cat's head was going to pop out any second. "It was an adorable thing. I didn't want to part with it." He sniffled dramatically. "That's why I forced Abraxas to invite you here, because I knew you would bring him with you. Now cough him up, Squirtle. Sharing is caring."

Hermione gulped. "Um…"

"What?" Black's smile slid off his face as he looked at her. "You did get him, didn't you?"

"About that…" She squirmed around. "There was actually an incident…"

Black narrowed his eyes. "You couldn't possibly have thrown him away, could you?"

"Well, not exactly that, but—"

"I can't believe you." Hermione rarely saw Black truly angry. There was the time he talked to Gryffindors, but that was understandable considering the house rivalries. However, this anger was directed towards her. "You threw out my cat. You didn't even have the nerve to tell me you didn't like it, and you just threw it out. Well, if you didn't want anything, you could've just said so!" He turned around and then stomped nosily up the stairs and then disappeared out of sight.

There was a moment of awkward silence. "I'm sorry," Abraxas said apologetically. "Black's been so excited about seeing that cat again. I think he was more interested in the cat than me. I was there when he picked it out, and from the time he bought it to the time he sent it to you, he rarely parted with it." Abraxas cast her a sideways glance. "Next time—if there is a next time, that is—maybe you should try something less extreme."

Hermione felt tears sting her eyes and she hastily wiped them away. She was not a crier. She did not cry when she was crucio'ed for thirty minutes straight. She did not cry when a bullet went through her right shoulder and stayed there for two hours while an inexperienced doctor tried to get it out. She did not even cry when her mother died, though she had been close to. She felt extremely guilty that she had not cried, but Nick had told her that you didn't need to cry to show your grief.

But this, the killing of a cat that she had not met, made her cry.

She wondered why that was. Was it because her father cruelly killed a living animal just to demonstrate his power? Or was it because she was starting to care what Black thought of her? She hoped it was not the latter; Hermione Granger simply wasn't the type of girl who wondered what everyone thought of her at all times. People could think what they wanted.

But maybe she was changing. The old Hermione Granger, the one who would worship her father, would've never disobeyed him and ask to go to Hogwarts. But then maybe, this whole new Hermione Granger was what was hurting those around her.

It could've been also that this was the moment that she decided that she was going to break free from her father. Nick had done it, hadn't he? Had he cried as well? She didn't think he did. She would've remembered and made fun of him for it.

A finger reached over and gently wiped her eyes. Abraxas stared at Tom in amazement. Hermione guessed that such sentimentalities weren't common for Tom. Hermione herself had never seen Tom like this, his face full of concern. She wasn't sure if she liked him like this better or him trying to curse her.

"Was it the kidnappers?" He inquired, and Abraxas flinched at the last word, looking worriedly at Hermione. She nodded, and his eyes immediately darkened in anger. His hand, which was reaching for her hand, tightened in to a fist, nearly crushing her fingers.

"They killed the cat," Tom stated, looking at Hermione for confirmation. Hermione gave him another nod. He tilted his head to one side, his gaze calculating. There was a moment of silence. Abraxas looked thoroughly confused, glancing in between them, trying to get clues.

Finally, Tom said, "There's something you're not telling me."

"There's always something I don't tell you," Hermione said, trying to get over the embarrassment of crying in front of them. Now that the moment had passed, the action seemed completely stupid and uncalled for. "I could say the same about you."

Tom narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, a figure flew out from the house and barreled towards Hermione, nearly knocking her over.

"Hermione!" Lavender's hair was still as frizzy as ever, and the grin grinned widely. "You're back!"

"Hello, Lavender," Hermione inclined her head politely. She still didn't know where she stood with Lavender. The girl would hate her one second because of Tom, and then confide in her when her interest switched to Harry. "Nice to see you too."

Hermione noticed, rather sadly, that Lavender was still wearing the rags servants were forced to wear. Lavender, however, did not seem to mind. "Thank Merlin you're back! Finally, another girl in the Manor! Lady Malfoy doesn't count." Abraxas cleared this throat loudly, and Hermione could see a little bit of fear strike Lavender's eyes. Hermione frowned. Since when had Lavender been afraid of Abraxas?

"You two don't need to stand out there," Hermione noticed he didn't include Lavender in his group. But then again, she had spent so much time at Hogwarts she had come to think of everyone as roughly equal. She supposed it would take her some time to get used to the fact that some people were considered servants. "Come inside." Abraxas stepped sideways to let both of them in.

Lavender trailed next to Hermione as she stepped in to the Manor, feeling the familiar smell reach her nose. "I have so much to tell you," the girl whispered excitedly. "Do you think you could sneak down to the kitchen later?" She bit her lip, looking nervous. "That is, if you want, of course. I won't force you."

Hermione blinked at her. "You can come to my room and we can talk." Truthfully, she didn't want to listen to Lavender's gossip mill, but she figured a little conversing with some girls once in a while couldn't hurt. Plus, Lavender's life was much worse than hers at the moment—if she ignored the whole situation with her father—and the girl looked like she needed someone to talk to.

"I don't think that's proper," Lavender said, whispering and throwing glances at Abraxas, who was now engaged in a conversation with Tom. Well, if Tom ordering him around could be considered a conversation. "I'm your servant now. Master Abraxas wouldn't be pleased."

Hermione frowned. She couldn't think of Abraxas as a 'Master.' Tom, maybe, but not Abraxas. "Well, if Abraxas doesn't like it, he'll have to take it up with me." She knew he wouldn't, though.

Before Lavender could reply, an elegant woman came in to the room. Lavender instinctively hid behind Hermione. The woman, however, paid the two girls no interest as she floated over to her son, batting her eye lashes prettily. Abraxas's face was stoic, but Tom placed a polite look on his face and smiled.

"_Tom_," Lady Malfoy cooed, taking his hand in hers and stroking it gently. Hermione nearly gagged, and Lavender eyed her curiously when she made a face. "We're so happy that you could join us." She looked to her son. "Aren't we, Abraxas?" There was no reply.

"No," Tom said, his voice nearly a purr. Hermione didn't miss the indiscrete eye roll that came from Abraxas. "The pleasure is mine. Thank you for inviting me over to your lovely house."

"Your presence is most pleasurable." Hermione rolled her eyes herself this time. If she didn't know better, she would think they were both children, shamelessly flirting with each other. However, what they really were was an old woman flirting with her son's friend. She thought about her own mother flirting with someone like Tom and grimaced. Then she quickly pushed all thoughts of her mother out of her head.

"Why do you have so much luggage this time?" Lady Malfoy asked, gesturing towards the extra suitcase. Hermione raised an eyebrow; was she really that unnoticeable? "You know you don't need to bring everything. We have more than you need here."

To be honest, Lady Malfoy sounded like she was trying to sell Tom the house. Tom threw her a charming smile, and then gestured towards Hermione. "That's for Hermione." He added for extra emphasis. "My girlfriend."

Hermione almost groaned. Tom seemed to be enjoying this whole situation way too much, as Lady Malfoy swiveled around and regarded Hermione through narrowed eyes. Lavender let out a small giggle, and the hid again. "You…" recognition dawned her face, and a look of fury crossed it. "You're the servant that ran away! How _dare_ you! I ought to have you executed for your impudent behavior!"

"Mother!" Abraxas jumped in, flabbergasted. "That's Hermione, the girl I was telling you about. I told you how she is as smart as Tom, remember?"

Hermione was flattered that Abraxas had talked about her. Tom, however, frowned and crossed his arm firmly. It was obvious that he thought no one came even close to matching up to his academic skills.

Lady Malfoy's eyes widened and she pointed an accusing finger at Hermione. "_She's_ in Slytherin?" She was nearly as annoying as Tracey. "A mudblood is in Slytherin? I must contact Armando. A mudblood simply cannot be in Slytherin." She looked over at Abraxas and smiled nicely. Abraxas seemed shocked at her sudden mood change. "Don't worry, darling." She cooed. "We'll get that mudblood thrown in Azkaban for cursing you."

Abraxas's mouth dropped open. "She didn't curse me! What are you talking about?"

"Do you hear yourself? This is not you." Lady Malfoy said at her son. "She is obviously trying to make you like her, because my _real_ son would not _ever_ defend a mudblood. We'll get you back to normal in no time."

"Excuse me, _Miss_," Hermione gritted her teeth. Lady Malfoy shot her an annoyed look. "I find it highly offensive that you keep calling me something I'm not. I am not a muggleborn."

"You lie," Lady Malfoy accused. "If you were not a mudblood, why would you need to work as a slave? Only mudbloods are slaves. No one else would be caught to sinking to such a low level."

Lavender flinched behind Hermione, and she remembered that the girl had said she was a pureblood before. What was _Lavender_ doing here then? There were a lot more opportunities for her that would pay more and give her more pleasurable work than cleaning the floors all day.

And Harry, with his past and secretiveness, it seemed like all three of the servants had something to hide.

"Mother, may I have a word with you—"

"Pardon me," Tom said smoothly, interrupting Abraxas. The latter wisely fell quiet. "I apologize for not notifying you beforehand, but Hermione is spending the break with me. I would appreciate if you would let her stay here for a couple of days. I promise she will not cause any trouble."

On one hand, Hermione was mad that Tom that he was referring to her as if she was a wild pet. On the other hand, she was flattered that _Tom Riddle_ was defending her. Hermione was aware that the words would mean less than nothing to him, but she couldn't help but feel better at his words.

"Tom, dear," Lady Malfoy cooed. "The mudblood must have put you under her spell as well. We'll have her arrested in no time." She harrumphed. "This is what happens when you let disgusting mudbloods do their own thinking. They backstab you." She sighed dramatically. "Mudbloods, always needing someone to think for them…"

"Mother, she's not a—"

Hermione didn't give Abraxas a chance to finish. She took one step forward and smacked the woman across the face. Shocked, Lady Malfoy stumbled backwards and fell on her butt, her hand on her cheek and her eyes wide. Even Abraxas made no move to help her up, and everyone just stared at Hermione.

"Pardon my intrusion," Hermione said as coldly as she possibly could. She narrowed her eyes at the woman on the ground. "I can tell I am obviously not wanted here. I will be taking my leave, then. I hope that I _never_ have to see you again."

"How dare you!" Lady Malfoy screeched. "My makeup! I spent _hours_ doing it! It's now dirtied with your mudblood fingerprints!" She sobbed in to her hands. "I must contact my makeup artist once again. She must floo from California." Lady Malfoy glared. "I hope you're ready to be thrown in jail for assaulting a pureblood."

"_Bitch_," Hermione hissed at her, and before anyone could respond, she stomped out of the house. She could hear Lady Malfoy still yelling, and Abraxas's pleas for her to be quiet, but Hermione didn't turn back once. She simply waved her wand, and she and her suitcase left the Malfoy Manor.

ஐ

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon kicking pebbles in to a tree.

She had gone to a muggle park and plopped down, unsure where she was supposed to go. Now that she basically blew any chance she had of living at the Malfoy Manor, she didn't know where she was supposed to go. Should she go back to the orphanage? Or maybe even visit the Weasley home?

In the end, she decided not to do either. She stayed in the park for the entire day. There were a couple of boys who came and decided it'd be hilarious to throw pebbles at her, but other than that, there was nothing interesting that happened. As for the boys, they had 'accidently' fallen in to the lake. There were no more pebble throwing incidents after that.

She had been sitting on the bench, feeling rather bad for herself, when someone behind her said, "Hey."

"Hi Harry." Hermione scooted over on her bench to let him sit down. He looked the same as he did when she left; his brown hair was still unruly and over the place, and his glasses were taped together with scotch tape. He had borrowed someone's clothes, because he actually had some jeans and a T-shirt on. Hermione wondered who would've been kind enough to lend him some, or if he just stole it.

"Lavender said you were back." Harry sat down, running a hand through his hair. "She also said that you slapped Abraxas's mother." He raised an eyebrow, a look of admiration in his eyes. "Is that true?"

"Yes." Hermione said. "I don't regret it."

"I didn't think you would. You shouldn't, anyway." Harry looked at her. "How was Hogwarts?"

"Quite good. I'm alive, aren't I?" Harry gave her a grin. "I met some new people, studied some more. Though, I suppose the most interesting thing to you is the Quidditch Pitch, isn't it? It was huge." Harry's eyes lit up and he nodded. He really was a Quidditch fanatic. "You should come with me next time."

Harry looked down, the light from his eyes extinguished. "I can't. Servant, remember?" He sighed.

Hermione blinked at him, and then asked, "Do you know Ron Weasley?"

Harry's head whipped up so fast, she thought he snapped it. "Why do you ask?" he said, his voice cautious. His reaction, however, was enough to confirm her suspicions.

"Ron told me about his best friend and his sister," Hermione shrugged, and then watched as Harry noticeably winced. "I sort of put the pieces together after thinking about it. Did you really escape Grindelwald?"

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands together. "I did." He said, but didn't elaborate on that aspect."Yes, Ron was my best friend. As for Ginny, I loved her with my life. I still do."

"That's sweet," Hermione said, thinking out loud. "To have someone love you even when you're dead." She thought of Lavender, and wondered if the girl knew that Harry was still in love with his dead ex-girlfriend.

Harry shot her a look, but when she didn't respond, he dropped the topic. "Ron was quite angry with Ginny's death. I don't blame him. Of course it looks fishy. If Ron and Ginny went off, and only Ron came back, I would hate him too."

"Ron doesn't hate you," Hermione blurted out. "He still likes you. You're still his best friend. He just doesn't know how to start forgiving you. I shouldn't be telling you this, as you know Ron so much better than I do, but Ron's not good at these kinds of things."

"I guess so," Harry sighed. "After Ron and the rest of his family kicked me out of his house, I was essentially homeless. My parents died when I was young, you see, and the Weasley family was kind enough to pick me up. I had nowhere to go once they left me to die, and I didn't have any money."

"That's kind of mean, isn't it?" Hermione frowned. "To just leave you there by yourself?"

"People do weird things when death shows up."

_True. _Hermione thought back to her mother, to when the two of them played with blocks together. She remembered Nick, coming up to her one day after her mother's death and saying, "_You're different now. You don't smile anymore._" Death could do a lot to people, and it was so powerful that no one could escape it.

Harry, however, he had a whole life in front of him. And she was determined to help make it right for him. He deserved a second chance as much as everyone else did.

"Harry," Hermione said, and then held out her hand. Harry looked at it questioningly, and then raised his hand. Hermione snorted. "I'm not asking for a high five, Harry. I'm telling you to put your hand in mine."

Harry blinked, but did as he was told. Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the house on the postcard that Ron had sent. A couple seconds letter, she felt the familiar pressure of apparition envelope her, dragging Harry along with her.

The first thing Hermione heard was a scream. The second was the feeling of intense pain and the feeling of liquid running down her leg.

"I'm sorry!" She squealed as the entire Weasley family came in to view, their jaws open wide. She, however, did not see neither Ron nor Nick, much to her disappointment. She could tell that this was the Weasley house based on their hair color, but other than that, they were strangers to her.

She had accidently apparated them inside of the house instead of outside. Harry had fallen somewhere behind the couch and was struggling to get up. She herself cut her leg on the coffee table, and it was bleeding. She paid it no mind. "I meant to arrive outside."

"Who are you?" The woman who Hermione assumed to be Mrs. Weasley asked. She placed her hands on her hips and regarded Hermione coldly. There was a wooden spoon in her hand. "If you are another one of those muggles trying to sell my husband those worthless junks, then—"

"Now now, dear," Mr. Weasley said, patting his wife fondly on her arm. "There's no need to bring muggle technology in to this. It is quite a fascinating subject, after all." His eyes brightened as he glanced over at Hermione. "You don't happen to have any on you, do you? I'm afraid I've run out since I finished my exploration with the telephone."

Hermione shook her head. She had learned quite quickly that keeping anything muggle on her was a death wish if she wanted to be anywhere near Tom. "I'm sorry, but I don't."

"Good," Mrs. Weasley harrumphed, waving off two of the Weasley boys, who looked like twins. They were loading something under the table, wearing identical grins. Mr. Weasley got a crestfallen look on his face before he returned to the object in front of him, which looked strangely like a yo-yo."Now, can you leave? This is private property. It's illegal to trespass."

Before Hermione respond, two huge balls of paint were fired at her head. She quickly ducked and they hit the wall behind her, painting it with two spots of green and blue. Mrs. Weasley quickly turned and scolded the twins, who were feigning innocent.

"Now, Ma, that wasn't us. Why would we want to scare away such a lovely lady?"

"It was Dad. If that was us, we wouldn't have missed."

"But since you're so convinced it's us, would you like us to show Dad how it's really done?" They took out identical paintball guns and pointed them at Hermione.

"What?" Mr. Weasley looked up from his inspection of a yo-yo. "Did you say something?"

"Dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, scandalized, waving her wooden spoon around. "There's an intruder in the house! Will you please drop your muggle gadget and help me here?" She glanced back at Hermione, as if she was going to curse her if her back was turned.

"Why?" Mr. Weasley scanned Hermione, a small smile appearing on his face. He looked like Ron when he smiled. "She seems perfectly harmless, doesn't she?"

_If only I were harmless_. "Actually, I'm here to—"

"Hermione!" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Ron flew down the stairs and grinned. "You made it!" Behind him, Nick appeared. He gave her a small nod and a grin. He looked like he lost weight, though; living with the Weasleys must have been painful for him, knowing he was bringing danger to them by just staying in their house.

"Hi Ron," Hermione greeted. "I meant to apparate outside of the house, but it accidently took me inside." She eyed her leg, which was still dripping blood. She quickly healed it and cleaned the rug that had been stained in her blood.

"That's alright. As long as you didn't hurt yourself." Ron turned towards his family. "This is Hermione who I was telling you would be coming over. Hermione, this is my family. Mom, Dad, Fred and George. Percy, Charlie and Bill are all overseas."

"Oh! You're Ron's friend." Mrs. Weasley looked extremely ashamed, and without her menacing look on, she actually looked quite nice. She placed the spoon down. "I'm so sorry for talking to you like that. I didn't know…"

"It's okay," Hermione smiled at her. "It was my fault as well. I didn't explain myself clearly enough."

One of the twins looked at Ron. "Ronniekins bringing home a girl?"

The other one sniffled. "Our Ronniekins is all grown up now!"

Ron scowled. "Shut up."

"Play nice, boys," Mrs. Weasley warned, and then smiled warmly at Hermione. "Hermione, dear, would you like to eat dinner with us?"

"I would love to," she suddenly remembered Harry and leaned over the couch. She _was_ here for him, after all. His glasses were askew, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. "Get up, Harry. You should talk to them."

"They'll hate me," Harry moaned, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was thinking. I should've known you didn't just want to shake my hand." Hermione snorted. "Take me back to the Manor please. I'm begging you. I'll do anything."

"Hermione?" Ron asked. "Who are you talking to?"

Before Hermione could stop him, Ron looked over the sofa and froze. Harry didn't move at all and sat there, his eyes gauging his friend's expression. His eyes were sad and resigned, as if he had already guessed Ron's reaction.

By now, Nick had wandered over as well. He put a hand on Hermione shoulder, looked over, and sighed. "Oh." Was all he said.

"Harry?" Ron asked, apparently finding his ability to talk once again. His eyes were huge. "What are you doing here?"

"Hermione tricked me in to coming," Harry glared at her. He got up and dusted himself off, and Hermione noticed that the rest of the family had stopped to stare. Mr. Weasley had finally taken his eyes off his muggle devices, and even the twins stopped joking around. "I'm sorry to disturb you. I'll be leaving now. It was never my attention to force my presence on you." He glanced sharply at Hermione. "Take me back."

"Wait," Ron said, cutting Hermione off. She wouldn't have agreed to, anyway. "You don't have to go, Harry. You can stay."

"Stay?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "You want _me_ to stay?" He waved Ron off when he started to speak. "Have you forgotten who I am? Let me remind you. I am Harry Potter. I am the boy your sister was dating. I am also the boy who was with your sister when she was murdered."

"Harry," Hermione said warningly.

"Do you want me to stay so you can punch me?" Harry continued as if he never heard her. Nick pulled on her arm and gave her a look that told her to stay out of this. Hermione sighed, but nodded. This was not her business. "Do you want to strangle me? Go ahead then! I won't stop you!"

"HARRY!" Ron screamed over him, and then the place instantly fell silent. "Harry, I don't hate you. I actually want to apologize to you for being so mean to you." He paused. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was," Harry replied hotly.

"Harry," one of the twins rolled his eyes. "Ronniekins is trying to apologize to you. This is a legendary moment. Just listen to him."

"Where's the video camera, Dad?"

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, and then turned back towards Harry. "Harry, dear, none of us blame you for what happened. We know Grindelwald is an extremely dangerous and evil man," Hermione gripped Nick's hand tightly, and he squeezed back. "There was nothing you could've done. We're happy that you managed to get back safe and sound." She paused, and some tears began to form in her eyes. "Ginny wouldn't have wanted you to feel guilty."

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, leading Harry up the stairs. "Let's go talk privately." Harry had a guilty look on his face, but he allowed Ron to pull him away. He glanced over his shoulder at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly at him.

The room became quiet again as the two of them left. "I should get going," Hermione said awkwardly, nodding at Nick. "I'll come back for Harry tomorrow morning."

"No, you can stay," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her tears before giving her a small smile. "I apologize for being a wreck right now, but there's a spare bedroom upstairs. You could always sleep there."

"Or," one of the twins winked. "You can sleep in my room."

"Two for the price of one," the other twin grinned. "We can even sleep in the same bed if you like."

"Fred and George!" Mrs. Weasley said, clearly scandalized. "Stop corrupting Ron's friend."

"As if Ron didn't corrupt her already."

Hermione laughed, and the twins looked pleased. "Alright then, I accept your invitation to stay in this house," she said. "Thank you so much for your generosity." She didn't want to go back, anyway. Lady Malfoy would not let her in to the Manor, and she doubted that Tom would give up such a comfortable room just to spend the night with her.

"Does that mean you'll also sleep in our room?"

"Nope." She laughed at their crestfallen faces. "Try again next time." She pulled Nick along with her up the stairs, all thoughts of the Manor and Tom flying out of her head.

ஐ

Tom Riddle stomped down the street to a pub, his usually handsome face twisted in a nasty snarl. People stopped to stare as he walked by, acting like a five year old, but he didn't care. He was too angry to care.

He flung himself down on to one of the chairs at the pub and told the bartender to get him two of the strongest things he had. Once he got his drinks, he twirled around his straw and took a small sip of his beverage. It burned its way down his throat, but he paid it no mind.

_When he had gotten back to his room, he was pleased to see Hermione sitting on his bed, looking thoroughly confused. He shut his door quickly, making sure to lock it in the process. He had asked Abraxas's mother for a spare wand, and she gave it to him without thinking. She certainly had her uses, but he had almost lost control and lashed out when she insulted Hermione._

_However, if it weren't for her, he'd still be in that damn orphanage. _

_Still. Who did she think he was? If Hermione really were a mudblood, Tom would never have came anywhere near her. He didn't need mudblood filth staining him. No secrets were worth that._

"_Tom?" Hermione questioned, eyeing him suspicious as he plopped himself down on the bed. He shot her a polite smile that gave nothing away. "What did you want that's so important that I needed to come here this very instance? Abraxas's mother could be here at any moment." She bit her lip, obviously feeling guilty about yelling at her friend's parent. "I don't want to cause any more trouble." _

"_She deserved it," Tom said sweetly, caressing her cheek gently. She slapped his hand away and scowled, and he smirked in response. It was worth a shot. He could already see that her defenses to him were crumbling. It wouldn't be long before she started to slip and told him all her secrets. "You are here because she decided to give you permission to live here."_

_Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "You wouldn't have anything to do with her sudden change of heart, would you?"_

_Tom said nothing, but instead pushed her so that she fell on her back and he loomed over her. Before she could do anything, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She froze for a moment, before relaxing and leaning in to him. Her hands tangled in his hair as his hands trailed the hem of her shirt, lightly skimming her warm skin. _

_The feeling of his fingers seemed to bring her out of her stupor, as she pulled away, much to his disappointment. Her eyes searched his, not suspicious anymore, but not quite trusting either. _

_He didn't know where she had been after Lady Malfoy kicked her out. He had a suspicion, though, that she had run off to Weasley's house. She even _smelled_ like the Gryffindor. That wouldn't do; he wasn't going to have her going around smelling like a _Weasley.

"_No," Hermione shook her head. "We can't do this right now." _

_He did the only thing he knew how to do. "Scared, Miss Granger?" He breathed out, watching as her hand reached up to skim his face, and then buried itself in his hair. Her touches were soft and lacked confidence, as if she was unsure about all of this. Tom smirked; knowing her, she probably read about it in a book. "I would've never thought that you were one to back out." _

_He smirked as a determined look crossed her face. Hermione never backed out of a challenge, he knew, and in less than a second, she pulled her to him again. This time, she seemed surer, their kiss becoming more intense as their tongues clashed, fighting for dominance. He ended up winning, of course, but he never lost to anyone before._

_His hands went back to the position they were before, touching the skin right above her jeans and began working their way upwards. Her hands weren't exactly inactive either; they had finished stroking his hair and instead were dipping slightly under his robes. She seemed to be still hesitant about touching him. Well, he would have to change that._

_He lifted her shirt slightly, and then completely froze. He broke the kiss and sat up, staring. Hermione sat up too, her face confused, her eyes following his to her stomach. She quickly covered it with her shirt, but he had seen enough._

"_What was that?" Tom demanded, very aware that she was refusing to look at him. "Where did you get those?" He narrowed his eyes and tried to get her shirt up again, but she held it down._

"_Nowhere, Tom." Her voice was shaky, and she looked like she was crying. Her pity trick wasn't going to work on him, and he felt his handsome features twist in to a nasty snarl. If she thought she could distract him by crying, then she was horribly mistaken. "Please, it's nothing."_

"_Don't tell me it's nothing," he grabbed her wrist, watching as she flinched at the harshness of his grip. "And don't tell me you fell down the stairs, because that's not going to work for me."_

_She was silent for a long time, and Tom was about to force an answer out of her when she said quietly, "My parents. They were abusing me when I was little. They've healed now, though." She gave him a weak smile. "I'm alright now."_

_Did she expect him to believe that? "Why don't you tell me the truth now?" Tom suggested dangerously, watching as she gaped at him. So she _had_ expected him to believe her little lie. "Before I get angry. And trust me, you don't want me to get angry." The magic that was crackling around him testified to that statement. Tom was sure his eyes were getting closer to red._

_Hermione scowled at him, not intimidated by his magic. "And how come you don't believe me?"_

"_Oh no, I perfectly believe you," Tom gave her a sickening sweet smile, one that would've fooled any of the Professors at Hogwarts, with the exception of Dumbledore. He knew that it didn't work on Hermione, though, and the look of suspicion that crossed her face confirmed it. "Maybe a couple of scars, Hermione. That would be believable. Have you looked at yourself recently? You have scars _everywhere._"_

_Hermione crossed her arms. "Are you saying just because I have scars means that you're going to dump me?"_

"_I'm saying," Tom leaned in, his voice eerily quiet. "That I will do much worse than dump you if you do not tell me the truth." _

"_I did tell you the truth. You're just refusing to believe it." She sniffed. "You think it's easy for me to admit that? You're the only person outside of my family that knows about this. That's just rude to not believe me and claim I'm lying." _

"_Hermione, I know you," Tom narrowed his eyes. "You would've called for help the second those scars got halfway near what they are right now. Do you think I would believe that you simply stood there and let your parents abuse you?"_

_He saw a small look of insecurity pass through her eyes, but it was gone within moments. "I love my parents," she said, her voice cold. "They fed me and raised me, so if they want to curse me, it's okay. I'm not hurt too badly, and since I can never repay them for what they've done for me, I am okay with a few scars."_

"_You're an idiot," he said, and Hermione slapped him across the face. It seemed to be a routine now, but neither of them were smiling as Tom's cheek turned red once again. She was breathing hard, as if she had just run a marathon. Her eyes were completely void of emotion, just like his were at the moment. Her mouth was pressed in a grim line, but Tom noticed that she kept her hand near her wand, just in case he decided to curse her._

_Well, she could keep on waiting. He wasn't going to waste the effort._

_There was a moment of deathly quiet, and then he said in a controlled voice, "Get out."_

_She wasted no time exiting the room, not even bothering to throw him a reproachful look as she left. The second the door clicked shut behind her, he grabbed his wand and cursed everything in the room, knocking down expensive gadgets and furniture. He easily destroyed millions and millions of dollars, but he knew that Lady Malfoy would never care. She had too much._

_Why wouldn't Hermione tell him about herself? Why was she so secretive, that the only thing he knew about her was her name, and that she was a halfblood? She must have something to hide, to be keeping so many secrets._

…_there were so many scars all over her skin. _

_Tom Riddle clenched his teeth in frustration, and then apparated towards the nearest pub._

"Mister Riddle," someone jolted him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a plump lady looking at him suspiciously. It had been too long since they had last seen each other. Tom gestured politely towards the seat next to him, and the woman sat down. She was determinedly ignoring the drink, Tom noticed. Well, he would have to do something to change that.

"Hephzibah," Tom greeted, bowing his head slightly and giving her a smile. She did not seem to fully believe it, but her tense posture loosened up slightly. He would've been surprised if it hadn't. "Please call me Tom. We've been acquaintanced enough, have we not?"

"I suppose so," She was not looking in to his eyes, and instead stared straight ahead. "Is there something you want, Tom? I have an appointment to keep. I'm afraid I can't stay long." She glanced at her watch to emphasize her point.

She wasn't going to leave anytime soon, not if he had anything to do with it. "I suppose I'll have to make the most I can out of our short time together." He raised his glass. "A toast to our re-acquaintance?"

She was still reluctant, but she had no other choice but to raise her glass as well. The bartender was watching them with his beady eyes, after all. It would've been rude not to. Tom watched her with a calculating glint, sipping on his drink. It would not do if he became drunk as well. The last time he had been drunk, well, Hermione helped him. He doubted that Hermione would coincidentally wander to this part of town, nor would she help him if she _did_ happen to find him.

Hephzibah, unfortunately, seemed to have the same idea. Very little liquid left the cup and entered her mouth as she seemed determined not to get drunk.

Tom decided to help her. Concealing it under his robes, his flicked his wand. The glass tipped itself into her mouth, empting most of its contents in to her mouth. She was so surprised she swallowed it all, and then grimaced. Tom watched her, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Was it good?" Tom asked, leaning in. Before she could answer, he flagged the bartender over and ordered another glass for her. "Drink up," he whispered, placing the glass in front of her, tempting her.

"N-no. I can't drink that." Hephzibah shook her head, pushing it away. Tom merely picked it up and held it in front of her face. "That was too much. I should be going." She stood up, but he tugged on her arm and pulled her back down.

He wanted to do nothing more than to shove it down her throat, but there were too many witnesses in the bar. Instead, he purposely trailed his hand up her leg, watching in satisfaction as she jumped a mile. Tom knew that something good could've come out of hanging out with Black. Tom leaned in closer, and found her cheeks starting to turn red.

"You don't want to go, do you?" Tom murmured softly, stroking her thigh gently. She was unconsciously leaning in to his touch, and he smirked. He placed his lips next to her ear and nearly grimaced as a wave of an unfamiliar smell reached his nose. He had done this so much with Hermione that he had become accustomed to her smell. But now was not the time to think of Hermione. "Stay here with me. I'll make your evening much more enjoyable."

"I—I…alright." She gave in reluctantly. "I'll stay."

Unfortunately for Tom, though, while she was responsive to his touches and his soft words, she still refused to say anything of importance. It took five glasses, which cost a lot of money and made him receive a couple of strange glances from the bartender for ordering such a strong drink, before she finally agreed to take him to her place.

Her place was quite small for someone who acquired so many riches over the years. She went in to the kitchen to make tea for him, stumbling and falling on the way. Tom paid her no mind and focused his attentions on the artifacts she had. She had given him the fake ring last time, so this time he would have to check before taking off. The fake ring cost him so much additional effort.

He was just picking through a stack of cups when he felt plump arms circle his waist as a body pressed up against his. He tried not to wince; he had never had to try before. The acting just came naturally to him. Maybe it was Hermione's influence again. He wondered if he was doing himself more harm than good by trying to find out her secrets. He seemed to be acting rather weird ever since they met.

He spun around and smiled at her. Her eyes tried to focus on him, but they kept drifting away. He tilted her chin up and leaned in almost as if he was about to kiss her. Instead, however, he said gently, "Hephzibah, dear, do you remember the cup we talked about?"

"The cup?" Hephzibah repeated dumbly.

"Yes." Tom said kindly, his voice not betraying the irritation he felt. "The cup we talked about at the bar. The Hufflepuff cup."

"Oh that." Hephzibah grinned at him. "I have it. But…" she paused, and Tom nearly cursed her for making him wait so long. He would've probably found it faster himself. "I want something in return."

"Do you?" His tone was suggestive as he winked at her, and she blushed. "Name your price, Hephzibah. What do I have that is to your liking?"

"This." She pulled him in and kissed him, spinning them around so his back was pressed against the wall. Her hands were bold and they roamed everything, and Hermione's face suddenly popped in to his mind. Tom hastily pushed her away from his mind; now that she pissed him off, she was going to forever reside in his mind to annoy him? He tried to focus on the woman in front of him, but no matter how much he tried, a certain bookworm's face appeared in his mind.

Thankfully, Hephzibah broke the kiss and stumbled back, slightly out of breath. Tom leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, waiting for her to calm down. She was giggling uncontrollably now, though whether it was because of his influence or the alcohol, he did not know.

"I'll go get it right now!" She flounced away, looking more like Tracey Parkinson than the old woman she actually was. Speaking of Tracey…Tom's lips curled up at the thought of their agreement. Hermione was obviously jealous of her, and it satisfied him to know that he held that power over her. However…he had reacted the same way towards Porter, had he not? That would simply not do; he had simply shown too much emotion.

Tom stalked around the room, but was not surprised when he did not find anything of importance. Hephzibah Smith was beginning to be of no use to him; he had milked her of all her precious belongings. In fact, the cup was the last one he wanted from her. Then he could…

"Tom!" Hephzibah flounced back in to the room, holding a tiny golden cup. Tom eyed it greedily, his eyes momentarily turning red. Hephzibah didn't notice, and instead held the cup out at him. "Here you go. As you requested."

Tom forgot to put up his act, but he doubted that she noticed anyway. He leaned forward and gripped the side of the bowl, when he frowned at Hephzibah, who wasn't letting go. "Excuse me," he said as politely as possible, furious that she was dragging this on for so long. _Just give me the damn cup! _"May I have this?"

"I…" Hephzibah looked confused, and she bit her lip. She shook her head, and then looked like she was speaking to herself. "I can't. I-I must not…"

Maybe his eyes had scared her? Tom composed himself slightly and turned back to her. "Please, Hephzibah," he pleaded in his best voice. "I need this."

He suddenly felt the cup being wrenched out of his grasp, and his furious eyes met a grinning Hephzibah. "I knew you'd try to get me drunk!" She said, way too happy for his taste. "It's one of my fabulous ideas, if I may say so. I left a note to myself to drink some sobering potion, and it worked!"

"If you were really smart," Tom said, narrowing his eyes. His magic crackled around dangerously around him. First Hermione pissed the hell out of him, now this stupid woman wouldn't give him the cup?" You would give me the cup right now."

"Sorry, Tom." She turned around and headed towards the kitchen. "You'll have to try somewhere else. Now, I trust you know your way to the front door?" Humming a cheerful tune, she headed in to the kitchen, throwing Tom a mock wave over her shoulder.

A sneer appeared on Tom's face. _You fool_, he thought nastily. _Never turn your back on Lord Voldemort. _He raised his wand, and a jet of green light flew out of it.

Hephzibah didn't even get a chance to scream before she crumpled to the ground, the green light connecting with her chest. She died instantly.

He levitated the cup over, greedily putting his hands all over it. He could see his reflection; a handsome boy ruined by his blood red eyes. When he had started making them—horcruxes, as Slughorn had said—he had felt a piece of his soul getting ripped out of his body every time he killed. Now, he barely felt anything.

ஐ

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she cackled. "Aren't you supposed to be with your family now? I'm sure that Master will be quite disappointed to know that you've been following after his daughter." She made a face. "Can you imagine the disappointment he must feel, for her to be falling in love and befriending her subjects?"

He frowned. "Now listen here, One—"

"Now, dearie, let's not do codenames," She said. "I've had enough of my name at Hogwarts too. Call me Bellatrix, honey." Bellatrix looked at him seductively. "Maybe I'll even let you call me Bella one day."

He eyed her warily. "You can call me Five."

"You won't tell me your real name?" Bellatrix cooed. "Such formalities. Fine then, Five. What exactly are you doing here, other than to enjoy my presence, of course? Did Master give you your next mission?"

Five shot her a sour look. "You know he did not. I've been on the mission for five years now."

Bellatrix laughed and clapped gleefully. "But it's an _important_ mission, Five. We've made so much progress," a nasty scowl crossed her face. "And that stupid girl is ruining it."

Five frowned. "She is not. Master would've given her a warning by now."

"Burning that cat wasn't enough of a warning to you?" Bellatrix sniggered. "That was too soft of a punishment for her. I would've taken her hand and burned let. Let her know _real_ pain."

Five remained silent.

"Every time I see her I want to strangle her," Bellatrix continued, snarling nastily. "Why is she so clumsy? Why is she so stupid? I don't see how she can get anything done with all the mistakes she makes."

"You're just jealous that she's Master's daughter, and you aren't." Five said offhandedly.

"No, I'm not." Bellatrix sniffed, though it was obvious that she was. "She was just lucky that Master was in his lovesick stage at that time." Five glanced around nervously, as if Grindelwald would pop up out of nowhere. Bellatrix waved him off. "If he wasn't so in love with that woman, she never would've appeared. Master himself stated that that was a moment of weakness that he will never repeat."

"There's nothing wrong with falling in love," Five said, though more to himself than to Bellatrix.

"That's where you and I are different, Five." Bellatrix purred. "Everything is wrong with falling in love. Do you see how much _power_ you give to your partner, if you love them? You'll refuse to kill them. You'll refuse to sell them out. You'll _die_ for them." Bellatrix sniggered. "So pathetic."

"You would die for Master," Five pointed out, a frown etched on his face.

"That is because Master is Master," Bellatrix rolled her eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Master _does_ have power over me; he has power over everyone. I am happy to serve someone who has power."

"Master's daughter is in love with someone who has power."

Bellatrix waved him off. "You think that's love? Think again. She's just lusting after the subject, quite pathetically, I might add. They're not in love. She might think so, and she might die for him, but the subject would _never_ die for her." She cackled. "One sided love is a beautiful thing."

"You certainly seem like you've spent a lot of time watching them," Five commented dryly.

"I'm doing my job. Don't tell me you've been slacking off on yours?" Bellatrix sighed dramatically. "I suppose Master will have to make do with just me. His own daughter is prancing around, having completely forgotten about the mission. And you, apparently, are not doing your work."

Five wisely chose not to respond.

"I wonder how Master will award me," Bellatrix sighed dreamily. "Maybe he'll even give the subject to me as a play toy once this is over." She licked her lips. "I can't wait until his pathetic daughter finds out what the _real_ mission is."

"I don't know why you don't just tell her," Five rolled his eyes. "There's nothing secretive about it."

"Oh, but there _is._" Bellatrix laughed. "She has to be so attached that by the time the subject is captured, she'll be completely _devastated._ She'll be broken." There was a glint in her eyes. "I will have my fun breaking her even more, until she is nothing left but an empty shell."

Five frowned. Bellatrix sure hated Hermione a lot for someone who was just jealous for Grindelwald's attentions. But then again, Bellatrix wasn't the definition of normal, so he guessed that anything was possible with her.

"But never mind about her. How have _you_ been doing, Five? Have you made progress? Have you found out any information?" She smiled seductively at him, as if it would make him tell her.

Five shrugged. He knew that Bellatrix would not give him all her information, preferring to keep it secret lest someone stole it. "That's for me to know," he said, and Bellatrix frowned at him. "I'm sure you have your own information, don't you?"

"Yes." Her face suddenly lit up. "Did I tell you about my new play toy? He's quite adorable." Her eyes held an evil glint in it. "All it took was one little Imperius, and he was mine. He's been killing the witnesses for me, did you know? Saves me _so _much work_._"

Five raised an eyebrow. "And who is slacking off now?"

Bellatrix scowled. "I'm not going to risk being caught just because I wanted to get some blood on my hands. There's plenty enough in the world to go around." Her face lit up. "We're going to hunt mudbloods this evening. Would you like to come?" She licked her lips. "They'll be blood."

"I'll pass," Five said, eyeing her cautiously. With her tousled hair and wild look, she looked quite like an animal. "Is Master going?"

"Master doesn't waste time on trips like these," Bellatrix sniffed. "I, however, _need_ to go." She grinned wickedly. "I'm addicted to their blood, addicted to listening to them _scream_. I love it when they squirm and–"

"That's it." Five stood up shakily. "I heard enough. I'm getting out of here."

"Had enough already, Five?" Bellatrix laughed, her voice sounding slightly insane. But then again, that was what she was. Insane. Completely out of her mind. Just as messed up as Grindelwald was. "Can't handle a little blood?"

Five ignored her and walked towards the exit of the room when he felt pain ripple through his body. He fell down to the floor, writhing. He had saw Hermione not scream even after put under the Cruciatus for so long. He was not as strong. Dimly, he realized that Bellatrix was laughing, but all he could do was focus on not choking on his tongue.

He was released from the curse a minute later, and he sat up, trying to catch his breath. Bellatrix watched him curiously, a smirk on her face. As he stood up shakily, she pointed her wand at him again, her head tilted slightly to the side.

Five burst forward, and before she had a chance to cast her spell, he leapt on her. He knocked her backwards and grabbed her wand, turning the tip away from him. She struggled and clawed at him with her fingernails, but there was little she could do not that he established a firm position on top of her.

He took out his wand and pointed it at her, shooting her a warning look. Bellatrix immediately stopped moving, her eyes darkening with hatred. "That was cowardly." He informed her coldly. "If you want to curse me, why don't you curse me when I'm looking at you?"

Bellatrix spat in his face, and it took all his willpower not to just curse her brains out. He didn't think Grindelwald would appreciate that. "What the _hell_, Five." She growled at him. Though she was no longer laughing crazily, she still looked quite insane like this. "Where did this come from?"

Five raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who cursed me while I was defenseless, Bellatrix."

"That was nothing. It was only a little Cruciatus," Bellatrix said, and Five could see that she really meant that. "You're a big boy, aren't you? You can handle a little pain."

"Well then, so can you."

Unfortunately, he found that he could not cast any serious curses at her, and the smirk on her face widened. It seemed like the only way he would be willing to hurt someone was if Grindelwald ordered him to.

He really was a puppet, wasn't he?

Five sighed and climbed off of Bellatrix, but he missed the glint in her eyes, and he also forgot about the wand she still had in her hands. Within seconds, he was pinned to the floor, unable to move a muscle. His wand was in her hands as she looked down on him, her eyes dark and her lips in a sneer.

"Let me show you to never attack me," she said sweetly, and then the pain came, again and again. She seemed to have no limit, and even after the pain was gone and now there was only a feeling of numbness, she didn't stop.

Fifteen minutes later, when Five was battered and had completely given up, she dropped his hand next to him and smirked. Without warning, she raised her boot and stomped on his face. Five could feel his nose break, and the feeling of liquid flowing down his face. Bellatrix laughed gleefully.

Five looked up at her, his eyes dark with hatred. "I will kill you," he said threateningly. "I will find you one day, when you're defenseless, and I will make you feel pain. I will make it hurt so much that you would be pleading for me to kill you. And I will. I will kill you in the most painful way possible."

"Ooh, I'm so scared!" Bellatrix laughed and then flounced out of the room, leaving Five strapped to the floor, his body aching in millions of places, and his nose bleeding profusely.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Now that I've re-read the last scene, I have to say that I dropped a lot of hints on who Five is, and for other secrets. So, if you can figure them out, congrats. If you can't, they'll be revealed real soon as we come upon the halfway point of this fic. (Yeah, we're not even halfway through yet. Sigh.)


	22. Chapter 21

**_**You should probably read this. Important information below**_**

**Author's Note**: I'm off to camp on Sunday, and I won't be back for approximately a month. Therefore, this is the last chapter for a while. I am currently revising my earlier chapters, so if you want to check them out while I'm gone, go ahead. The most noticeable change would be the prologue. There are a couple of added scenes there.

My beta and I spent some time thinking about this, and Hermione was made a little more sadistic because of her upbringing. Also, all muggle references will be removed since someone pointed it out, and I realized that they were illogical to put in. That also counts for pokemon, so Black's nickname for Hermione will disappear and she will simply be referred to by her name.

For those of you who do not like this, I'm sorry, but I spent a lot of effort trying to edit it and I don't feel like changing it back. The story line is still the same, of course, just without some of the unnecessary gadgets and some better characterized people.

Alphard Black appears in this chapter, and for those of you who read my other story, The Art of Not Knowing, (if you haven't, I highly recommend reading it.) this Alphard and that Alphard are not the same. This Alphard will also not play that big of a part as that Alphard. Okay, I'll shut up before I give anything else away.

Hm…I think that's it. Oh, and I recently discovered that I can reply to reviews. I actually never knew that. So if you review before Sunday, I'll respond to you (assuming it's not anonymous.) If you don't get it in by Sunday, I may be able to respond but it'll probably be left alone for one month till I get back.

Last thing; for those of you who don't like all these characters coming together in one generation, the only reason I did so was because someone once said to me that they disliked having lots of OCs running all over the place. Trust me, I am perfectly fine with coming up with OCs, but I thought that I could create other conflicts with the other characters in the book who you already know about. As I am far too lazy to go around replacing everyone's names, you can either just live with it, or stop reading. (Though I hope you'll do the first option.)

**Thanks to my beta, AllShadesofGrey, for spending so much time revising for me. (You get a bold mention.)**

And of course, thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Virtuoso Wanderings, Weird-Chik2, MIGHTY RULER OF GUMMY BEARS, voldyismyfather, asianstotheleft, tHevoLtuRi'SdARkpRiNceSS, hateme101, Anon, ShadowAngel55, UniCryin, TheGirlonFire52, Beaufale, reader204, donkeykongsmathsocks, MidnightEclipse93, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, ChemicalRose1248, Berry, Miss Scarlett Rose, funnygirlz-niklin, Apurva21, sKyLaR KnIgHt, Pigfartsisreal, Punkey-Monkey, Red Sphinx

MidnightEclipse93: I don't type hate A/Ns. I find it silly if I do, seeing how I ask for criticism. I'm perfectly fine with your review; it's honest and I respect that (plus it boosts my review count.) I mentioned most of what you said up in that massive A/N. Modern day muggle references will be taken away (with the exception of Arthur Weasley.) As for the characters, I'm leaving them there, so sorry if they annoy you.

Red Sphinx: You said you were really irritated with someone, but you left out the name. I'm guessing you meant Hermione? And good luck for the rest of your exams. And how Harry escaped is a story for another day.

**_**End of insanely long author's note**_**

* * *

><p>"Is there any particular reason," Hermione said sharply, her eyes narrowing as she took in her surroundings. "That we're at a muggle bar?" She glanced down at Abraxas, who looked to be the only person sober, and he gave her a guilty smile. Black was completely wasted, and Tom had fallen asleep on the table. Eying them all disdainfully, Hermione reluctantly slid in to the seat between Abraxas and Tom, making sure to keep some room between her and the latter.<p>

"Tom sent us an SOS," Black slurred, trying to sit up but failing. He ended up opting to lie on the table like Tom was, his shaggy hair wet with what looked like beer. "He told us he had to meet someone, but we had to help him. And then he said we absolutely could not invite you," Black sent Tom a glance, but Tomshowed no sign of hearing. "So that was when I knew that I absolutely had to invite you."

"Typical."

"Do you think we should wake him up?" Abraxas asked worriedly, glancing at Tom. "The time he indicated was seven. That's in about ten minutes." He pondered for a while. "I wonder who he invited."

Hermione, being the closest to Tom, leaned over to jolt his head. When Tom didn't respond then, she leaned closer and shook him by his shoulders. "Wake up," she snapped as loudly as she could over the blazing music. "Your guest is going to be here in ten minutes so you should—"

Tom was up before she could even blink and held her by her throat, pinning her to the table. Hermione's wand was out in a flash and was pointed at his head as he brought his out as well. Abraxas let out a yelp of surprise, and even Black was startled out of his drunken stupor. Hermione narrowed her eyes as Tom's eyes transformed from blue to black to nearly red. There was an ugly sneer on his face, which Hermione happily matched.

"We're at a muggle bar," Abraxas protested, glancing around. "People think you two are insane, trying to kill each other with two sticks. Can we do this later?" He looked nervously at the bartender, who was frowning and deciding whether or not to come over.

"Hermione, Tom," Black said softly, so quiet that it was uncharacteristic. However, Hermione didn't risk removing her eyes from Tom, who clearly reacted out of reflex. However, it seemed that while his eyes were looking at her, he wasn't really registering what was happening. "Stop."

Neither of them dared to drop their wands, and the atmosphere in the bar became tense. Several people stopped talking and were now looking over at their booth, their eyes wide and expression nervous. No one dared to interfere.

They stood in the stalemate position for a while, their eyes burning holes in to each other, before Hermione tapped her wand against his head impatiently. Tom froze, and then seemed to finally recognize her and then abruptly let go of his grip. His eyes were still a dark, blood-like color, but he folded his wand away and sat down calmly. Scowling, Hermione removed herself from the table and sat down as far away from him as she possibly could.

Uneasy conversations started again around the bar, though there were suspicious glances thrown at them once in a while. The silence surrounding the four was uncomfortable, but neither Hermione nor Tom were going to say anything. Abraxas glanced back and forth between them worriedly, and Black, who had sobered up for five seconds, had become drunk again. He was busily ordering beer, flirting with all the waitresses as well.

Somehow, Hermione wasn't too surprised when five minutes later, they ended up with ten beers that were completely paid for, a smug Black and a very, very flustered waitress.

"That's cheating," Hermione told him when Black leaned back comfortably, gulping down his drink like there was no tomorrow. "It's only beer. It's not that expensive, is it?"

Black turned his dark eyes towards her, and the smug expression slid right off his face. "I don't know," he said, his voice eerily quiet. "Maybe because I spent all my money on a cat that was promptly thrown in the garbage. No matter what you think, Hermione, money doesn't fall from the sky for me." He turned away, flagged the waitress over, and then started whispering in to her ear, determinedly turning his back on Hermione and ignoring her.

Hermione winced slightly and turned to Abraxas, who was frowning. "You didn't tell him?" she asked.

"I…no, I didn't. It's not my place to." He offered her a small, reassuring smile. "Don't mind him. He's just drunk and stupid." He rolled his eyes as Black took the waitress' hand in his and seemed to be proclaiming his undying love for her. "Come to think of it, he's always drunk and stupid. And as much as he denies it, money does fall from the sky for him."

Before Hermione could respond, Tom made an inhuman sound and sat up. For someone who had just been splayed on the table, there wasn't a hair out of place on his head. And in the letter Black had sent her, he had said that Tom was as drunk as hell. Hermione glanced over at him; he seemed to be his normal and irritable self, though he seemed considerably angrier than she had ever seen him.

"Abraxas," he barked, and the boy jumped. "What time is it?"

"Seven," Abraxas responded, moving over so that Hermione, who was on a voyage around the table, could move as far away from Tom as she possibly could. "Your guest should be here at any time."

Tom nodded, and then glanced sharply at Hermione. She had nearly made her way around the booth, sitting very close to Abraxas. The boy gulped, glanced nervously at Tom, before attempting to move away. Hermione, however, simply followed him.

This went on for a couple minutes, until Tom had enough. "Are you quite done?" Tom snapped as the two of them nearly pushed Black off his chair. Black scowled at them and then shoved Abraxas back. Hermione quickly moved away as the two of them started pushing and shoving, nearly knocking over the glasses of beer in the progress.

"It's your fault," Tom said, glaring at Hermione. She simply raised an eyebrow at him, her face void of emotion. "They're so damn loud. My head's killing me." Raising his wand, he cast a silencing spell on the two of them and then went back to massaging his head slowly. Hermione, just to spite him, lifted the spell.

Tom glowered at her. She glared right back.

He grabbed her arm roughly. "I haven't forgotten about what happened." His hand trailed dangerously close to the hem of her shirt. She slapped it away. "Don't think I've forgiven you yet."

"Forgiven _me_?" Hermione asked incredulously. "I think you have it the other way around, Tom. _I_ don't need your forgiveness. It's you who needs my forgiveness." She crossed her arms and scowled. "You're the one prying in to things that isn't your business."

"So I'm supposed to ignore the scars," Tom stated plainly, as if it were the most idiotic thing he had ever heard.

"Of course!" she shot back. "I ignore all _your_ faults, don't I?"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Enlighten me, then. What _faults_ could I possibly have?"

"You're plain evil," she said. "You never tell me about your past, or you family. And don't think I've forgotten what you did to your father." She narrowed her eyes. "That was unforgivable to kill him, no matter how much you hate him." She conveniently forgot about her own background.

His eyes widened a fraction. "How do you know what I did to him?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The look on his face clearly indicated that he did. "I can put two things together, Tom. And Tim told me himself. I don't know _what_ I was thinking, letting him go off with you." Her eyes blazed. She couldn't believe she was lecturing him on this, not when her feelings towards her own father was nowhere close to being positive. "He's your _father_, Tom! He brought you in to this world! Don't you think he tried to redeem himself?"

"He is not my father!" Tom snarled back, his grip on her wrist tightening. "He is a filthy muggle. And I don't believe in redemption. Anyone who has done something evil enough to try to seek it is already rotting in hell."

"Really," Hermione said quietly, her eyes cutting in to his. "And where does that leave _you_, Tom Riddle?"

"I will never go anywhere _near _hell. I will escape it all, because I will _never die._"

His words were strange to her, and she was unable to comprehend what he meant. 'Never die?' Even her father would die one day. Even he couldn't escape death. Quietly, she said, "Everyone dies, Tom."

Tom's face twisted in to a nasty snarl, but before he could curse her, a man stepped up to their table. He had a wary look on his face, and his black hair was brushed off to one side. He looked strangely like…Hermione quickly glanced over.

"Alphieee!" Black crooned, reaching over to hug the man's leg. The man looked down and blinked, clearly surprised. "You came to see me."

"No, actually." 'Alphie' glanced over at Tom. The two of them stared at each other, their gazes not particularly friendly. "Your friend here invited me."

"I did." Tom said, abruptly letting go of Hermione's wrist. She massaged it with a sour look on her face. "I did say to be here at seven, did I not?"

'Alphie' shrugged nonchalantly and sat down. While Tom seemed to think it was a big deal that he was ten minutes late, the man didn't think so. He grabbed what was left of Black's glass, ignoring the boy's protests, and chugged it down. Black wrestled him for the cup, but Alphard used his height advantage quite nicely and held it out of his reach.

He suddenly noticed Hermione, and she stared back at him. This man, who she was guessing was some sort of relative of Black's, certainly looked like both Black and Cygnus. He reached a hand out professionally and said, "I'm Alphard Black, Head Boy."

"Hermione Granger," she shook his hand. Tom had mentioned him once, but strangely enough, she had never seen him around. "I'm in fifth year."

"So you're Hermione," a rueful smile appeared on his face. "Orion has been talking about you a lot, to the point where whenever I saw his owl, I just threw the letter in the trash." Black frowned. "It was not because of you, of course, but there's only so much I can take."

"I would've done the same," Hermione nodded, ignoring Black's whisper of 'of course you would.' "Are you Black's cousin?"

Alphard looked surprised. "Orion didn't tell you? I'm his older brother, actually."

Hermione stared. "Black, you have an older brother?" Black nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because Mommy disowned Alphie for a while," Black explained. "But Mommy realized she had made a mistake, so she let Alphie back in. While Alphie was disowned, no one could talk about him." He made a sad face. "Or Mommy would crucio us."

"Mommy?" Hermione repeated, narrowing her eyes. "I thought your mom left you when you were young."

Alphard nodded. "He's talking about Walburga's mother. He and Cygnus are staying there over the breaks." He glanced at Abraxas. "Though, wasn't he calling your mom 'Mommy' just last year?"

"Yes, he was," Abraxas made a disgusted face. "Now he just calls her Irms when the two of them are flirting shamelessly."

"I do not flirt with your mom!" Black objected, sticking out his tongue childishly. "Not that your mom isn't smoking hot."

"I did not need to know that," Abraxas groaned. "Remind me to never listen to you again while you're drunk."

"She is!" Black protested. He turned towards Tom. "Isn't she, My L—" He trailed off, Tom narrowing his eyes and Abraxas gulping nervously.

"My what?" Alphard inquired, his eyes on Tom.

"My… my love." Black said. He gave Tom a grin. "That's what I was going to call him. My love." Tom gave him a disgusted look, and Alphard's expression simply said that even a two year old wouldn't have believed Black. However, Black remained painfully oblivious and stole Abraxas's beer before proceeding to dumping it on his own head.

Hermione turned towards Alphard, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere. "I haven't really noticed you at all at Hogwarts," she said. "Where do you sit during meals?"

Alphard opened his mouth, but Tom cut him off. "He's never at meals," he leered. Hermione wondered if there was still a little alcohol in his system. He was acting most peculiar, or maybe he was just always acting when he was with her. "Because he's _busy_."

There was a glint in his eyes, and Alphard regarded him coldly. "Yes, I am." he said calmly, though his gaze was far from pleasant. "Now tell me, Tom, what _you've _been up to these past months."

Tom stood up abruptly. "There's a room over there." He jerked his head down the hallway. "We can talk quietly over there." Alphard looked at him, before nodding and standing up as well.

Hermione suddenly had a sense of déjà vu from Diagon Alley. She had no idea why _anyone_ would agree to talk to Tom in private, especially when they knew how Tom was. "We're in a muggle bar," she informed Tom frostily. "There are three witnesses here," and then she added sweetly, "You won't do anything stupid, will you?" There was a warning glint in her eyes.

Tom merely glared at her and said, "Don't follow me." And then the two of them disappeared down the hallway.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Now that Tom specifically said not to follow him, she was going to do the exact opposite.

"Alphieeee." Black crooned softly.

Hermione turned towards Abraxas, who had a frown on his face. "Is he really busy?" she asked. "Alphard, I mean. I've actually never seen him before."

Abraxas sighed. "Yes, Alphard has been very busy for as long as I've known him. Even without all the prefect and head duties, I barely saw him around. The Head Boy position just made him more tired. And then last year, there was a rumor going on about a Black mixing around with a muggle. Him getting disowned made him busier than normal, trying to support himself."

Hermione sighed. Oh, the drama in the Black household. "Let me guess. It was actually Walburga."

Abraxas shot her a funny look. "No, it was Andromeda, actually."

"Who's that? Walburga's cousin? Another one of Black's siblings that I don't know about?"

"She's actually from another family," Abraxas grinned at her tired face. "The Blacks have quite a few lines running right now, in order to ensure that they have at least one heir. I think there's a total of six Black families right now." Hermione groaned. "Unfortunately for Andromeda's family, she is not only female but she is also, as they call it, a "muggle-sympathizer.""

"Andy was so nice too," Black said. "But then she ran off with that stupid muggle." Hermione sent him a glare. "What? It shouldn't offend you unless you're a muggle."

"Alright, time to get you home," Abraxas sighed. "You've had too much to drink, and you're extremely angry. Come on; let's go before you decide to blow up something." He turned towards Hermione. "Be careful."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"You have that look on your face," Abraxas said as he helped a staggering Black to his feet. "You're going to go after Tom, and you'll only end up blasting my face off if I don't let you," Hermione grinned guiltily, and Abraxas sighed. "Just remember that Alphard is perfectly able of defending himself. You don't need to be the super hero all the time."

"I know." Hermione thought that she was quite far from being a super hero. She watched as Black accidently tripped and landed in a woman's lap. She looked delighted, but her husband was clearly less pleased. "You better take him home before he gets killed."

"Unfortunately, Black doesn't die that easily," That was true. The woman was avidly defending Black, who just gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek and then staggered off. Hermione almost snorted as the woman held back her husband, protecting someone who she had only just met five seconds ago.

"Don't splinch yourself," Hermione called to Abraxas, who was holding Black back from ordering another gallon of beer.

"I won't," he said, rolling his eyes. "I make no promises towards him, though." Black fell on to the floor and Abraxas took that opportunity to tie him up. Upon seeing that he had Black under control, she spun around and headed down the hallway to the room that Tom and Alphard were in.

ஐ

"So the rumors are true," Alphard commented, leaning against the wall comfortably. He noticed that Tom placed several locking charms on the door, but decided not to comment on it. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. "The ones about you and Hermione."

Tom clenched his fist, but kept his face carefully blank. He was curious to hear about what kind of talk surrounded the two of them, but he wasn't going to ask Alphard to be his gossip mill. He'd just find out through Tracey once he got back to Hogwarts. "I'm not here to talk about Hermione."

"I didn't think you were," Alphard said. "Though I am rather curious to why you want _me_ here. If you want some lecture on Black history, Orion and Cygnus would be a better choice, I'm afraid. I don't really pay attention to the lives of my ancestors."

So Alphard was playing dumb, was he? "If I wanted to learn about your egoistic family, I would've picked up a book," Tom snarled. Alphard raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Tom, on the other hand, took out his wand and twirled it in between his fingers. Alphard eyed it warily. "Now, Alphard, tell me. Does the name Hepzibah Smith sound familiar?"

Alphard frowned and his hand immediately flew to his wand. However, before he could get it out, Tom swiftly disarmed him, catching his wand in his other hand while keeping his own trained on Alphard. "No need to get so defensive," Tom sneered, tilting Alphard's chin up with his wand to force him to look in to his eyes. "I only wanted to talk with you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alphard said, sounding more brave than he was feeling. He was trapped in a room with Tom Riddle, and unlike all the other naïve students at Hogwarts, he actually knew what Tom was really like.

Ever since he had walked in on one of Tom's meetings and saw him breaking Avery's fingers one by one, he had been extremely wary of the boy. And Tom, in return, had always been suspicious of what Alphard was doing, and made sure to keep and extra eye on him.

"No?" A calculating smile appeared on Tom's face as he backed Alphard up until his back was against the wall, the jagged stone pressing in to his back. "So the two of you aren't secretly acquainted? She hasn't entrusted her prized possessions to you? She _didn't_ give you the diadem?"

"No idea what you're talking about," Alphard said, proud that his voice was not shaking. Of course he knew exactly what Tom was talking about, but he was busy mentally prepared himself for Tom's legilimens. While he knew he couldn't hold off Tom, Tom would be slightly weakened and stunned by using legilimens, and Alphard hoped he could push him off and make a run for it.

"I have to admit," Tom continued on as if he hadn't heard Alphard at all. "That it was rather clever. To give the diadem to that foolish girl, and convince her it was the real one." Tom sneered, and Alphard wondered if the girl was alright. He had never met her, but Hepzibah had told him about her. Lavender was her name, if he recalled correctly. "Then, she'd give you the real one. You, who was not involved in this at all, therefore making it difficult for me to suspect you." His wand tip was tracing patterns on Alphard's neck. "You will regret getting involved in this."

"Tom, you're still drunk," Alphard said as kindly as he could, given their current position. He noticed that Tom had dropped his wand and it currently lay a couple feet away from him. He started to move closer to it without Tom noticing. "You don't know what you're talking about. Go sleep it off. You'll feel better tomorrow."

"Don't tell me what I should or should not do," Tom hissed. "You will tell me where it is now, or I will extract the information by myself. And if you make me waste my energy doing so," he narrowed his eyes. "I'll make it as painful as possible."

"You weren't this angry the last time I saw you," Alphard said warily. But then again, the last time the two of them had met out of school and away from prying eyes was when Tom was picking out his wand at Ollivander's.

The tip of his wand dug in to Alphard's neck. "That's because you gave me what I wanted right away then," Tom replied smoothly. "If you would just tell me where the diadem is, we wouldn't need to go through all this."

"What makes you think I know Hepzibah?" Alphard raised an eyebrow, trying a different approach. "If you bring me to her, you'll find that she won't be able to identify me,"

"This world is made up of liars, Alphard," Tom said softly. "And they'll be no need for that. Hepzibah is dead."

Alphard's eyes widened. He had seen her just a week ago, alive and fairly active, running around all over the place. "How?"

A sadistic grin crossed Tom's face. "I killed her, of course," he said. "After she refused to give me the cup. The same fate will meet _you_, if you don't give me what I want."

"You can't do that," Alphard's eyes hardened. "You'll get sent to Azkaban."

Tom smirked, digging his wand in to Alphard's neck so hard the boy almost gagged. "Dead people can't talk, Alphard. You'll find that I'm awfully good at covering up my tracks."

Alphard raised an eyebrow. "So you'll kill my brother," he stated. "And then you'll kill Abraxas. And then you'll also kill Hermione, since they're all witnesses? And then you'll also kill everyone in the bar because they saw you. Why don't you just go kill the whole world while you're at it?"

"That was the plan," Tom said coldly. However, before Alphard could question him, Tom continued. "Black's too drunk to comprehend what just happened, anyway. Abraxas will keep his mouth shut if he knows what's good for him."

"What about Hermione?" he said, noticing how Tom visibly tensed up. Noticing his advantage, though small, Alphard pressed on. "What will she say when she finds out what you're doing with me here?"

"She already knows," Tom said, causing Alphard's eyebrows to rise even higher. "She also knows what I'm going to do with you if you don't comply with my wishes."

"She _knows_?" Alphard repeated. "How can she know? Why would she stay with you then?"

Tom scowled. "I'll have you know I'm a charming boy. Why _wouldn't_ she stay with me?"

"She didn't look as sadistic as you," Alphard continued, apparently not hearing Tom. The boy frowned. "I see no possible explanation, unless she's also sick like you and loves killing people."

"_Crucio_," Tom whispered, and Alphard immediately started writhing. Since he was still pinned to the wall, his head smacked against the hard stone before Tom dropped him on to the floor. A small streak of blood was left on the wall. Alphard's eyes held intense hatred as Tom sneered down at him. "Don't you dare call Hermione sick," he said. "Don't you dare drag her in to this."

Realization dawned Alphard's face. "You care about her in your own way, don't you?" he said, watching as Tom's eyes flashed red. He was too gleeful with his new discovery to care that this was the last thing Tom wanted to hear. "That's why you wanted to talk in here. You didn't want to bring her in to this." A triumphant look crossed Alphard's face. "I never thought I'd see the day Tom Riddle actually _cared_ for someone."

"Shut up!" Tom growled, raising his wand. "Don't you dare talk about Hermione right now! You have no right—"

"If I had known you two were arguing about me…" a female drawled from the doorway. It was the subject of their conversation, standing with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. "…I would've gone home with Abraxas. What a dreadfully boring topic to talk about," she walked over and helped Alphard up.

Tom let her tend to Alphard's wounds, though he didn't put his wand away. "How much did you hear?" he said, his temper deflated, though his voice still had some of the anger that was present before.

"Enough," Hermione responded. "No need to be so worried. You said it perfectly yourself, actually. Nothing you said came as new information to me." She nodded at Alphard, who flexed his fingers carefully before smiling appreciatively at Hermione.

"I didn't mean to call you sick," Alphard said.

Hermione shrugged. "It's all right. And who knows. Maybe I'm as insane as Tom is." Tom's eyes flashed dangerously again, and she rolled her eyes. "You really are easily pissed off when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Tom muttered darkly.

Hermione eyed him, but turning back towards Alphard. "Come on, let's get out of here," she said, leading him towards the door. "It's late now, you should get going."

However, before either of them could exit, the door slammed shut. Hermione was lucky enough to jump out of the way, but the door slammed in to Alphard's face and he fell to the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Tom then raised his wand at the two of them, but Hermione had her wand out in a second, and the two of them reached yet another stalemate.

"When will you stop pulling out your wand at me?" Tom asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Whenever you stop pointing yours at me," Hermione replied, her lips curling into a smirk.

Alphard looked up from the floor, his eyes wide. "Did you see that speed?" He seemed to be muttering to himself. "Would be great in the Auror program."

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, a hint of laughter in her voice. Auror? Her father would laugh at the absurdity of the situation. She would train to be an Auror and learn how to fight against Grindelwald, when in reality, she was one of his spies. But then again, it would be strategically sound.

"Never mind," Alphard waved them off. "Continue." He paused, suddenly aware of what he just said. "No wait. Don't continue."

Tom's eyes narrowed, and with a quick glance at Hermione, he raised his wand. Hermione raised hers defensively, but then saw that Tom's target wasn't her.

"_Legilimens!_" Tom pointed his wand at Alphard, and the boy's eyes immediately glassed over. Hermione froze, unsure of what to do. She didn't want to get in between the spell, because she wasn't sure how strong Tom's occlumency was. She didn't want him digging around in her head.

It wasn't until Alphard made a gurgling sound did she snap out of her stupor and did the first thing that came to her mind. Wand forgotten, she tackled Tom.

"What the hell, woman?" The two of them ended up tangled together on the floor with her on top of him. He struggled to point his wand at her, but she pressed it to the ground. "Why do you always have to physically hurt me?"

"Just because you're using a wand doesn't mean that you're not physically hurting people. I just choose the muggle approach more often." Tom scowled at her. Seeing Alphard's confused expression, she added, "I kneed him in the groin."

Alphard snickered.

Tom glowered at him, and Alphard immediately quieted. Then, he turned his attention back towards Hermione and hissed at her, "Show me your stomach."

Hermione was momentarily stunned, and then shook her head. "No. Now's not the time to talk about it." She paused. "Actually, it's never time to talk about it."

Tom snarled at her. "I want to see it!" He tried to push her shirt up, but she held it down, feeling quite silly.

"No, Tom. You can't see them," Hermione snorted. She noticed Alphard watching them with his mouth open. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Sure," Alphard got up shakily to his feet. He glanced over at Tom. "I'm going to relocate the diadem, so don't think you've won." Ignoring Tom's nasty glare, he turned towards Hermione. "It isn't my place to warn you against anyone," he said. "But I think you should be careful around him. He isn't what he seems like." He eyed Tom cautiously. "And I would be careful around him now as well. He doesn't look like he's human."

Tom growled, actually growled, and reached for his wand. Hermione clamped her hand down on his mouth to stop the strange sounds from coming out of his mouth. "I know." She said, and then glared at Tom. "What are you, a vampire? Stop biting me."

Tom merely glared at her.

"Well," Alphard said. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, and I shall get going. I'll be seeing you at Hogwarts, Hermione." He nodded his head politely and turned towards the door.

Hermione turned to look at him, but her grip on Tom's hand accidently slackened. Within seconds, he threw her off of him and pointed his wand at Alphard's back. Before Hermione could do anything but watch, her eyes wide, Tom muttered, "_Obliviate._"

Hermione gaped in horror as Alphard turned around, a loopy grin on his face. "Hello. Who are you?"

"Tom!" Hermione screeched at him, but the boy just calmly picked himself up and dusted himself off like there was no problem. "You cleared his memory!" She grimaced as black spots dance around her vision. She must've hit her head harder than she thought.

"It's an odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?" Alphard continued on even though the two of them weren't paying him any attention.

"Get up," Tom snapped as he towered over her. She snarled up at him. "Did you want to bleed on the floor all day?"

"He's Black's _brother_!" Hermione breathed incredulously.

"Does it look like I care?"

Hermione glared at him. "So if it were me, would you have done it? Would you have obliviated me?"

"Of course," Tom said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. She gaped up at him and quickly rolled away. He snickered. "I won't do it _now_, of course. You still have too many mysteries for me to solve."

"Why don't you just use legilimens?" she suggested, and then mentally cursed herself for offering suggestions to him.

"I could," Tom mused thoughtfully. "But where would the fun be in that? Plus, even if I did try, I think you would be able to ward me off." A nasty snarl on his face informed Hermione that it pained him to say it. And she _had_ been strengthening her occlumency shields, but he didn't need to know that.

"Who am I?" Hermione had forgotten that Alphard was even there. He was sitting on the floor with a childish expression on his face. She eyed him sadly; he had seemed like a busy, but well educated individual. Now there was nothing left but a shell of him. "What's my name? Am I Gilderoy Lockhart?" A loopy grin appeared on his face. "I always liked that name."

"You need to take him back to Black," she said, feeling a little woozy. "And you have to explain to him."

"I don't need to explain," Tom snapped. "I'll tell Black where he is, and then Black can apparate here and pick him up himself."

Hermione shook her head and winced, the movement hurting her head. She crawled over shakily to Alphard, who was watching her with an interested expression. "Come on," she said, tucking her arm in his. "It's time to go now."

Alphard nodded eagerly, but a cold voice stopped her. "Hermione, you're bleeding," Tom said, pointing to the trail of blood she had made. "You can't even apparate yourself, let alone the two of you." He held out his hand. "Come here. I'll apparate you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. For someone who had looked like he hated her tremendously only minutes ago, he was certainly quick to change his mood. "Will you apparate Alphard back as well?"

"No."

"Then I guess I'll have to do it myself," Without waiting for Tom to respond, she closed her eyes and felt the familiar pressure of apparition envelope her. She heard Tom's growl of frustration before the two of them landed in Abraxas' bedroom.

"Hermione?" Abraxas jumped up on his feet and rushed over. Black, who looked more sober than before, had his eyes trained on Alphard. "Are you okay?"

"Just fine," she waved off his attempt to examine her. She swayed slightly from side to side, though she tried to conceal it. The look on Abraxas' face, though, said that he saw it.

"What happened to him?" Black asked quietly, poking his brother in the knee. "Alphie hasn't grinned like that since he started Hogwarts."

"Is that my name?" Alphard giggled. "I thought I was Gilderoy." Black's eyes widened and he turned to look at Hermione.

"Tom." she told him, coming up with no other explanation on how Alphard could've possibly lost his memory. "He obliviated him."

Black clenched his jaw, an angry look appearing on his face. Whether he was angry at Tom, or at her, or at even himself, she didn't know. However, Abraxas chose that moment to look at her worriedly and said, "Hermione, you're bleeding."

"It's nothing too bad," she said, though she winced as her words came out slurred. She took out her wand. "See? I can even heal myself. Watch." But before she could cast the spell, darkness over took her and she fell. Abraxas lunged forward to catch her before she could hit the floor and Hermione closed her eyes, all thoughts leaving her mind until there was nothing left.

ஐ

Nick Porter headed down the streets of Diagon Alley. He had come with Ron, and his friend, Harry, though the two of them were fawning over some Quidditch gear. He had left them, telling them he'd be back in an hour, and wandered up and down the streets with no particular destination.

Ever since Harry came in to the house, Ron had been spending a lot of his time with his friend. Nick hadn't minded; he was perfectly content with being by himself. However, he caught Harry sneaking glances at him when he thought he wasn't looking. And Nick, being naturally suspicious of everyone, began to wonder if there was more about Harry than what met the eye.

He hadn't really talked to Harry, and the boy hadn't really tried to talk to him. The only words that were exchanged between the two was Harry telling him, 'tell Hermione I'm okay.'

Ron, he knew, tried to get the two of them to talk more. But other than Hermione, there wasn't really anything for them to talk about. He himself was not a sociable person; Hermione had been the only one he opened up to. Everyone else at Hogwarts—Ron, Seamus, Lily and the other Gryffindors—had taken the initiative and talked to him.

Lost in thought, he accidently bumped in to a woman walking down the street. A couple of books as well other small objects fell out of her bag. He hurriedly bent down and picked them up, piled them in a neat pile and handed them to the woman.

"Thank you," she smiled appreciatively, tucking them back in to her bag. "I'm sorry I'm so clumsy."

"I'm to blame as well," he said, and then narrowed his eyes in recognition. "You're Violetta Bulstrode, aren't you? The fifth year Slytherin who shares a dorm with Hermione."

The girl blinked, and then her eyes lit up. "Yes, I am. You're Nick Porter, Hermione's friend in Gryffindor." Unlike her fellow housemates, she seemed to have no problem with conversing with someone from the rival house. Or maybe it was just Hermione's influence. "Fancy running into you here. Are you shopping as well?"

"I was actually dragged along by Ron," Nick explained, gesturing towards the Quidditch shop. Violetta giggled, immediately understanding. Nick was about to excuse himself when his eyes wandered down to her hand and took in the ring on her finger. "Is that…are you…"

Violetta looked down and nodded, a huge smile appearing on her face. "Yes. Yes it is."

"Who?"

"Me," Cygnus Black appeared behind Violetta and wound an arm around her waist. She smiled at him lovingly, and he returned it. Nick immediately felt uncomfortable, as if he was eavesdropping on a private moment. "Hello, Porter."

"Cygnus," Nick greeted, his mind whirling. "Congratulations." And then, against his will, he added, "Have you told Black yet?"

Cygnus looked at him strangely. "Thank you. And no, I haven't told Orion yet. We only saw him once, and it was yesterday, and it didn't seem like the proper time to tell him, given the circumstances."

Nick thought back to what Hermione said about Black, the only girl he ever loved was smitten with his brother. From the looks of things, neither Cygnus nor Violetta knew about Black. Black, of course, had been nothing but mean to Nick given their house rivalries, but Nick couldn't help but feel bad for the boy.

Violetta placed a hand on Nick's arm. "Are you okay?" she asked, her expression worried and her eyes wide.

"Yes." He was alright. _Black_ was not going to be. "You said you saw him yesterday," Nick said. The two of them nodded. "Did you see Hermione?"

The two of them exchanged a quick glance, and Nick frowned. "Actually," Cygnus said. "Hermione is currently in a coma."

Nick gasped."_What?_"

"We don't know all the details," Violetta shrugged. "When we got there yesterday, we saw the five of them in Abraxas' bedroom. Abraxas was the only one there who was willing to talk to us. Hermione was on the bed and Tom was sitting next to her, though he had an angry look on his face." Here, Nick grimaced. "And Orion was with Alphard." She looked down sadly. "He had his memory wiped. He was such a nice person too."

"Alphard?" Nick repeated, the name not coming off as familiar.

"My older brother," Cygnus clarified. "He's the Head Boy." He corrected himself quickly. "He _was_ the Head Boy. I think Dippet will remove him from that post." He frowned. "I think Orion was sort of _happy_. Alphard hasn't been so carefree ever since he entered Hogwarts. He's the oldest son, therefore the rightful heir. He had a lot of work on his shoulders."

"I'm sorry," Nick said sincerely. "And I'm sorry if it comes out as offensive, but I would like to know how Hermione is."

"Oh! Of course," Violetta smiled at him. "Hermione's recovering. She lost some blood and then she apparated Alphard back to the Manor." Here, Nick cursed Hermione for having a super hero attitude. "She fainted, but she'll be all right in a couple of days."

That didn't reassure Nick. "Do you know what happened to her?" he asked. Hermione generally was a very careful person. It wasn't like her to get in to situations like this. He thought back to the time after her mother died, when she had attempted suicide. He remembered the blood on her hands. There had been blood everywhere. Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Cygnus looked at him, but Nick ignored him.

Violetta bit her lip. "Abraxas didn't know, so he couldn't tell us. However, he did say that she got in to a fight with Tom."

"Riddle," Nick repeated. "She was in a fight with Riddle…"

"Yes," Cygnus nodded. "She's still at the Manor, if you want to check up on her." He glanced at the clock. "We're going to have to cut it short right here. We're supposed to be in Hogsmeade in ten minutes." He inclined his head slightly as a way to say farewell.

"I have to be going as well," Nick returned the head nod. "I'll see you around."

Violetta smiled softly at him, but he already spun around and was heading back to the Quidditch shop. He had to tell Ron and Harry he had to leave. He had to go to the Manor, to see Hermione. Even though he would most likely not be welcomed, that had never stopped him before.

_Hermione, please be all right._

He was sprinting down the street, trying to fight against the crowd, when a hand yanked him back forcefully and pulled him in to a back alley. All those years of fighting and training did him well as his reflex immediately made him take out his wand and point it at the person, his face twisted in a nasty scowl.

"Let go of me or I'll bash your face in," Nick was not in a good mood, and it only plummeted when he saw who it was. "_You._ What are you doing here, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix cackled. "You remember me! You, who have been gone for so many years, remembers me. No one else remembered me," she pouted in a way that she thought was cute. "Until I _made_ them remember me."

"If what you want is a little love," Nick said, "Why don't you go crying back to him? I'm in a rush right now, so if you don't mind, you can remove your hand from my wrist." He tapped her fingers with his wand. "Or I will do it for you." He was not in the mood to deal with her, nor did he have time. He needed to see Hermione right now.

"Scared?" Bellatrix jeered. "Don't refer to him as _him._ He deserves more respect than that. Say it. _Grindelwald._" The air around them seemed to crackle a little, and Nick looked around to make sure that no one heard them. He was sort of hoping there was, so someone could come and take this maniac away.

Bellatrix trailed a finger down his cheek, and he immediately moved his face away, a look of disgust appearing on his face. She merely giggled insanely. "And I _do_mind, Nicky," she cooed. "We haven't seen each other in _so_ long. Why don't we catch up a bit?"

"No," he wrenched his arm away, and she gave him a smirk before pulling out his wand. "You may have a death wish, Bellatrix, announcing his name everywhere. But don't drag me in to this." He narrowed his eyes. "We're enemies now. I won't hesitate to curse you."

"Nicky, you won't curse me" Bellatrix said, an innocent expression on her face. "Do you remember when we were best of friends? When that stupid girl wasn't in our lives?"

"Don't call her that," Nick's grip tightened on his wand. Bellatrix, he knew, had always hated Hermione with a burning passion, though the latter didn't even know that Bellatrix was watching her most of the time. Nick would've thought that Bellatrix was obsessed with Hermione if he hadn't been there to witness the intense hate that flickered on her face every time Hermione was mentioned.

"What do you want me to call her then?" Bellatrix replied sweetly. "Whore, slut—"

"Just Hermione will be fine," Nick interrupted, narrowing his eyes. Bellatrix had always been known for her colorful vocabulary, to the point where even Grindelwald condemned her for it sometimes.

"She doesn't deserve to be called Hermione," Bellatrix snarled, dropping her naïve and innocent act. "She took you away from me! Then she took my glory away from me! And then she took Grindelwald's attention from _me_." She bawled loudly, and Nick wondered how on earth the people passing by could not hear her."She has _everything_! _I_ had everything, until she took it away from me!"

"On the contrary, that is incorrect." Nick raised an eyebrow. He had no idea why Bellatrix had suddenly decided to consult him with her jealousy problems. They hadn't talked in _years_, and they were technically enemies now. But then again, he and Hermione were enemies and they still remained friends. "Hermione has been through much more than you have."

"Everyone always says that," Bellatrix growled. "Everyone always believes her pity act. Just because she had to kill her own mother doesn't mean she deserves everyone's sympathy!"

Nick looked at her coldly. "Actually," he told her, wondering how anyone could be so cold hearted, "it does."

"Even you?" Bellatrix asked. "Even you're under her spell. She's the enemy. Why are you still being so nice to her?"

"You're the enemy too," Nick reminded. "And it's Hermione's choice to stick with her father," here, Bellatrix noticeably winced. He knew that Bellatrix always hated the fact that her own father was not Grindelwald. "It's not my place to tell Hermione what to or not to do. That is her choice. I'm here to assist her in whichever path she may choose."

"She doesn't deserve you." Bellatrix argued.

Nick simply raised an eyebrow. "And _you_ do?"

"Of course I do!" Bellatrix said. "I'm pretty, and I'm powerful!" Nick not so subtly rolled his eyes, but she was too busy ranting to notice. "Why would you want her? Why does everyone want her? What could she possibly have that I don't?"

"Hermione has a heart," Nick said simply.

Bellatrix then flew in to a rage, firing random curses. Nick dodged as one spell that looked strangely like the killing curse flew over his head and crashed in to the wall behind him. She wanted to talk to him, but she was also willing to kill him? Looking at the murderous expression on Bellatrix's face, Nick deduced that no, she wouldn't mind killing him.

He may have been out of practice, but he could still fight fairly decently. Hermione had dragged him to an empty classroom once a week while they were at Hogwarts, and she had made the two of them duel. She had mentioned something about 'not wanting to lose to Tom,' and while Nick didn't approve of her reasoning, the training helped keep him in shape.

Nick managed to reach her and flipped her over, Bellatrix flailing helplessly. While she may be talented with her wand, she did not know how to protect herself with it. He wrestled it away from her and pointed his own at her head.

She, however, refused to cower. Instead, she gave him a frightening grin and said, "I rather _like_ this position. Why didn't you just say so from the start?"

Nick gave her a disgusted look and pressed his wand in to her temple. Her smirk didn't disappear, but it hardened considerably. "I'm only going to say this once," Nick said quietly. "You stay away from both me and Hermione. And if you don't, I'll tell him about what you did."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bellatrix jutted her chin out bravely, though Nick didn't miss the rare fear that flashed in her eyes.

"You don't?" Nick raised an eyebrow at her. "Do the words 'you killed my mum' sound familiar to you?"

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" Nick looked down at her, the girl who taught him all the dangerous curses he knew. The girl who he had befriended before he realized that she was insane. The girl who was out for Hermione's blood. "So you won't mind if I tell him? He was awfully angry when she died." He pretended to ponder. "I wonder what will happen to you when I tell him that it was you who did it."

"_NO!_" Bellatrix shrieked, clawing savagely at his arm. "You can't tell him! You absolutely can't tell him!"

"Leave us alone then," Nick narrowed his eyes. "And I _will_ hear about it if you even look in Hermione's direction." His point made, he quickly stunned her so that she couldn't curse him while his back was turned, and hurried back to the Quidditch store. Bellatrix had taken up a lot of his time, and she had also brought up some points he needed to talk to Hermione about.

ஐ

"You look like shit,"

Hermione raised her eyebrow as she turned around. There stood Jake from the orphanage, the same Jake that tried to get her to stay away from Tom. She wondered absentmindedly where she would be now if she had followed his advice.

"Thanks," she patted the white bandage on her head. She had only woken up a couple minutes ago, and was startled to see Tom sitting on the chair next to her, asleep. There was no one else in the room, and she had the sudden urge to get away from him. She wasn't ready to face him yet, so she apparated herself to the first destination that came to her mind: the beach.

She hadn't anticipated running in to Jake, though. There were two other kids with him, but they were sitting in the shallow water, a dumb look on their faces. One boy and one girl who looked to be no older than she was.

"What happened to you?" Jake asked, gesturing for them to sit down as well.

"I was in coma," Hermione shrugged. When Jake gaped at her, she elaborated, "It wasn't really a coma. More like a prolonged sleep." She smiled slightly. "I hit my head a little too hard."

"_You_ hit your head?" Jake asked suspiciously. Hermione nodded. "I don't believe you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well then, it seems like you already know what happened."

"I do." Jake said. "You had a fight with Tom, and then the two of you got tangled up. You were trying to prevent him from doing something, and then he tossed you on the floor." He grinned at Hermione's bewildered expression. "I would ask if I'm right, but I think I am."

"How did you know?" She patted her head absentmindedly. Was there something written on her bandages? "Did someone tell you?"

Jake shook his head. "Hermione, I've lived with him my entire life. I know what he's like." He paused. "There are three types of violence that Tom uses. When someone annoys him, he takes revenge by taking away or killing one of their beloved possessions. Take Bobby for example. Bobby annoyed him, and the next day, his rabbit was hung and skinned.

"Then there's level two, which is what happened with you. Whenever Tom feels particularly threatened, he usually uses excessive force. With you jumping on top of him," he ignored Hermione's protest of '_I didn't jump on him!', _"he felt threatened so he pushed you off. Now, since you're the only one who managed to get even remotely close to him, you're the only one in this category."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "If you've never seen this before, how did you know what happened?"

"The bartender told Dumbledore, and he came an hour ago. I overheard."

"And here I thought you were a mind reader." Hermione's mind, however, was on different matters. Dumbledore had come? Did that mean that Tom was going to get in trouble? As much as she disliked him for what he was trying to do to her, trying to look at her scars, she didn't necessarily want him in _prison_.

Jake grinned guilty, but his expression immediately sobered. "And then there's the third type. The type Tom is obsessed with." Hermione flinched as he gestured to the two who were sitting in the water. "No one knows what happened to them. They followed him in to a cave on day, and then they went insane."

"Is that Amy?"

Jake blinked. "Tom told you? Yes, that's Amy. And next to her is Dennis." He sighed. "Amy was the first person who accepted Tom. She gave him the stuff he wanted when everyone else refused. When he demanded that she go do something, she went without protesting. However, everyone knew that Amy liked Dennis. I think even Tom himself knew, except he was in denial."

"Tom didn't love her, though." She thought back to when Tom told her about his background, told her about his past where no one loved him. She wondered if Tom wasn't originally a bad person, just someone turned evil because there was no one to care for him.

"Of course he didn't. Tom's not capable of love," Jake didn't notice the way Hermione winced. Everyone always said that. She knew that he didn't love her, but sometimes she wondered if he might care a little about her. Whenever someone said what Jake said, she would always imagine him as using her only for a source of entertainment. "He cares about some people, in his own sick way. There are two people who he has remotely cared about. Amy," he cast Hermione a sideways glance. "And you."

Hermione watched as Amy shakily picked herself up. Dennis crawled after her. Jake waved them over, but it took five minutes for Amy to realize that she and Dennis weren't alone, and another five for her to slowly make her way over. She kept getting distracted, stopping at each seashell to admire its color and texture.

"Amy, Dennis, this is Hermione," Jake introduced quietly. Amy's eyes slid right past Hermione without seeing her. Jake added cautiously, "She's one of Tom's friends."

The effect was immediate; Amy dropped to the sand and placed her hand on her ears as if to block out sound, squeezing her eyes together tightly. Dennis clenched his fist and growled, incoherent sound coming from his mouth.

Hermione looked at them sadly. Jake sighed. "For someone who adored Tom to suddenly hate him like this was huge. Even though she liked Dennis, she still enjoyed following Tom around." Jake looked at Amy, who had curled herself up in to a ball. "She had this mission. She wanted to be able to let Tom feel love again, to let him feel wanted. Now, she can't even hear his name without freaking out."

"Jake," Hermione said, reaching over to pat Amy's head. The girl flinched away. "I appreciate you doing this and all, but—"

"You aren't going to go away from him. I know." Jake sighed. "I was hoping that the sight of Amy and Dennis would convince you otherwise."

"I've seen worse," she said quietly.

Jake glanced at her worriedly, but when she didn't elaborate, he continued, "Tom is starting to care about you. His way of caring is what we call obsessing. You need to get out before you get in too deep."

"Too late." Hermione responded. "I'm already in," she looked at Amy. "I think I'll try to continue what she didn't get to do, to make Tom feel like a human being again. I saw the way the orphanage treated him, and after seeing that, I'm not particularly surprised that he turned out this way." Jake had the decency to look ashamed. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Jake. Even Tom."

"Tom's well past his second chance," Jake muttered under his breath.

"Yes, well, Tom deserves more. If you get past the fact that he's sadistic and has an obsession with killing things," Jake rolled his eyes. "He's actually quite a nice person."

"That's basically taking away his entire personality." Jake pointed out. Hermione simply shrugged. "So you're defending him now? Even after what he did to you?" Jake gestured towards the bandage on her head.

Hermione's eyes glinted. "Of course I haven't. Just because I'm on a mission to make him feel loved again doesn't mean that he can get away with doing whatever he wants to me." To emphasize her point, she cracked her knuckles evilly.

Jake gave a shaky laugh. "You're kind of scary." Hermione merely smiled sweetly at him.

_Crack._

Based on the expression on Jake's face, she had a pretty good idea who it was behind her. "I finally found you," someone grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Talking?" Hermione blinked. "Tom, you just apparated in front of Jake. You broke about fifty laws."

Tom turned his eyes to Jake, who gulped nervously. "Jake won't be telling anyone. He knows what I'll do to him if he does." Tom's eyes glinted darkly. "Am I right, Jake?"

Jake nodded hurriedly.

"How did you find me?" Hermione demanded. "I didn't tell anyone where I was going."

"Nick mentioned it," Tom drawled, and Hermione immediately froze. "He said that last time you went straight to a beach afterwards. Though, being the annoying prat he is, he wouldn't tell me what 'last time' meant."

Last time, of course, meant right after her mother died. After Nick saved her, getting her to a hospital before she lost too much blood, she had headed towards the beach right away. There had always been something about the beach that pulled her in, and she had always gone to the beach whenever she felt conflicted.

She was flattered that Nick had noticed.

"Speaking of Nick," she looked around. "Where is he?"

"I tied him to a bed," Tom admitted smugly. Hermione gave him a look. "What, you don't believe me?"

"As if you will civilly tie someone to a bed," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Knowing you, you probably blasted him in to the wall."

"I did," Tom said smoothly, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Quite civilly as well. I didn't break his head, did I?"

Before Hermione could respond, Amy chose that moment to look up. She looked at Tom, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. She whimpered and then buried her head back in her knees. Tom regarded her coldly, with no trace of remorse in his eyes. Dennis staggered towards Tom before falling on his knees. Even in his mad state, his expression was still dark and hateful.

"I think you should go," Jake said shakily. "Seeing Tom here has to be a shock for her. I don't think she can take much more of this." Gently, he eased Amy on to her feet. "Come on, Amy. Let's go back to the orphanage."

"Tom," Hermione started once the three of them were out of sight, but he quickly cut her off.

"Hermione," he grabbed her arm again, though this time it didn't cut in to her skin like it did before. "I know I have my faults. But you _can't_ run away like that."

Hermione blinked, and then a small smile began to form on her face. "Are you_apologizing_ to me?" She asked incredulously. Tom scowled in response. "Were you _worried_ about me?"

"Shut up," Tom said, and then spun around and walked away. Hermione trailed behind him, a grin working its way up her face.

She had told Jake that her new mission was to make Tom feel loved again. And if there was one thing she never did, it was failing. Hermione Grindelwald never failed.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Dun dun dunnn. This seems like a good place to end the story and start a sequel. But I won't, because I'm too lazy.

Hope this met up to your standards. Tata for now. Have a good summer.


	23. Chapter 22 Back to Hogwarts

**Author's Note: **Yeah, so I finally got off my lazy butt and wrote this chapter. It's been a pretty long time since I last updated, and I realized that the pace of the story is going extremely slowly, so I sped things up a bit this chapter. There are very little TomxHermione moments this chapter, but you'll have to deal with it. It exploits a different side of this very complicated fic. (in my mind, anyway.)

On a second note, I finished my other fic, Back to the Past. It's two chapters long and was for a challenge, so check that out if you have time. Also, I have a new fic featuring some drabbles I write. It's currently at one, but read it if you want to see a collection of pointless drabbles featuring Tom and Hermione.

Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed! (And waited so long for the next chapter.)

asianstotheleft, hateme101, Assiduous Dreaming, Beaufale, sKyLaR KnIgHt, Mighty Ruler of Gummi Bears, I am Hazel Daughter of Pluto, voldyismyfather, UniCryin, ShadowAngel55, SamarKanda, Zelma Kallas, Mugglebornsrule, Vue Lorner, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, jowilleatyuh, harmonious, horan-hugged, tablekorner, Thnks fr th mmr - Satan , call-me-joy, AMUTOforever305, HarryPotterBlack7

Meep. I kind of gave up on answering every review…don't hate meee. I'll answer the ones with questions here, and those that don't have questions…well, you know I love you, right? ;) It's just…I'm a terribly lazy person.

Mugglebornsrule: technically speaking, Tom already 'loves' Hermione, in his standards. But we'll see if he can take it even further. And I will keep quiet about the spies; don't want to spoil it for you. It'll start focusing on the Grindelwald's daughter perceptive. Starting with this chapter.

**THIS IS UNBETA'ED**

* * *

><p>Nick was still rather pissed off about being flung to the wall by Tom, so Hermione sat with him and his fellow Gryffindor friends on the way to Hogwarts, much to Tom's displeasure. He tried to storm in to the compartment and drag her off, attempting to curse everyone in his path. However, Hermione sealed the door off the muggle way by piling their luggage against the door. Before Tom could blast the door off, the trolley woman walked by, frowning slightly. Tom had no choice but to smile politely and return to his compartment.<p>

He was extremely angry by the time they got back to school. Hermione, on the other hand, was just happy to be back at Hogwarts. She had been worried through the entire winter break that her father would call her back, but she hadn't. The only thing that made her slightly worried was the fact that she hadn't heard a peep from him, but she quickly brushed it from her mind, telling herself she was thinking too much.

Nevertheless, while she was floating in her happy bubble, Tom's anger was building. And Tom combined with anger never resulted in something good.

Her first class back, potions, started off rather awkwardly. Tom was ignoring her, and she could feel dark waves rolling off of him as he scowled at the class. The rest of the class looked quite surprised that the usually perfect Prefect could show such an ugly face. It seemed that Tom didn't even bother to keep up his perfect student act. Tracey looked rather disheartened at his mood, but then glared at Hermione as if it were her fault. Which, she supposed, it kind of was.

Black was sitting in front of her, and he was making a show of speaking to everyone but Hermione. When he accidently dropped his quill near her feet and she bent down to pick it up for him, he made a show of turning around and waiting for her to drop the quill again to pick it off the floor. Eleanor shot her a questioning glance, but Hermione merely shook her head. She had been meaning to tell Black about the cat, but she had forgotten and hadn't made a good enough excuse of why it was suddenly missing. However, she didn't think it was entirely fair how childish he was acting.

Abraxas, being the ever helpful friend, tried to cover up the awkward silence over the group as the class waited for Slughorn to arrive. People were shooting them glances as the usually tight group sat in silence, with Black trying to force a conversation with Eleanor. "So," he said awkwardly. "How was your break?"

However, Hermione's happy mood had been dampened, and she wasn't in the mood to converse. She snapped at him, "You were with me the whole time. Why don't you tell me?"

Abraxas frowned, but took the hint and stopped talking. Hermione sighed; she would've gotten up and moved next to Cygnus and Violetta, except the two of them seemed quite cozy and she didn't want to third wheel their relationship. She noticed Black was also determinedly not looking over at the couple. Trying to talk to Eleanor while avoiding looking at both Hermione and his brother proved to be a very difficult task, and he eventually gave up and stopped talking, glaring holes in to the wall.

"Miss Granger," Slughorn stepped in to the room, followed by Gabriel, who was grinning stupidly. He looked like an older version of Abraxas, but his face was pointier and a permanent jeer seemed to be stamped on his face. Abraxas seemed to tense slightly, before he relaxed and stared at his brother with a cold glare. The latter merely winked at him. "Would you come with me for a second?"

Abraxas shot her a worried glance. Apparently, Gabriel had been missing for most of break, coming home only to get his stuff before leaving again. He refused to answer any questions about his whereabouts, only getting angry when he was questioned. The last Abraxas had heard from his brother, he had gotten mad at Lady Malfoy and had stomped out of the house. Lady Malfoy had fallen down in shock; her most prized possession, her baby, was treating her like trash.

Hermione didn't have much sympathies towards the woman; she no doubt deserved it. However, she was still wary of Gabriel; the boy had seemed quite close to his mother when she was still working as a slave. What caused the certain change of behavior?

Black glanced back, seemingly curious. He looked over at Hermione, remembered that he was ignoring her, and then turned back towards the wall. Tom, on the other hand, didn't show any sign that he heard Slughorn. He busied himself with his papers, not even stopping to acknowledge Tracey, who was trying to worm herself in to her lap.

Hermione just shrugged. She wasn't appreciated here anyway. With a quick reassuring nod to Abraxas, she stood up and followed Slughorn out of the room. Gabriel leered at her when she walked past him, and it took a lot of her restraint to just walk past him without stomping on his foot like she wanted to do.

Ten minutes later, Hermione sat in the Head Boy's room, groaning. Why had she agreed to this? Why had she let Slughorn rope her in to this mad business? There had to be so many more people who were more able at tutoring than she was. Take Tom, for example. He was the perfect student; there was no way he would risk his reputation refusing an offer like this. Why did Slughorn have to come ask her?

Hermione glared darkly at Gabriel, who had his back turned and was retrieving something from his bag. _He_ requested her, of course, though she did not particularly know why. And anything he requested for had to be granted, because he was the new Head Boy.

If Hermione thought Dippet was off his rocker before, he certainly was absolutely insane in her mind now. Why would he put Gabriel, of all people, in the Head Boy position? Dumbledore mostly certainly would not have approved of this, but it was Dippet who had the most power in this school. And though Dumbledore often swayed his decision quite a bit, it was Dippet who had the final say.

Alphard, as she expected, had been removed from the Head Boy post. Slughorn had told her with a straight face that Alphard unfortunately ran in to some wild beasts in the Forbidden Forest and fell off a tree, losing his memory as a result. Either Slughorn had turned in to an extraordinary liar over the break, or that was what Tom told him and he just believed it. It was probably the latter, Hermione reasoned with herself; Dumbledore must've become suspicious, and he had made it up on the spot. Not that it was a good story to ease someone's suspicions, but all the other teachers seemed to buy it.

But still. _Gabriel_, as a replacement? Did Tom suggest that too?

"I see why my brother hangs around you," Gabriel sat down entirely too close to her. Hermione noticed the way he was trying to peak up her robes and she moved away, glaring. Gabriel laughed, a mean sort of sound coming out of his mouth. Hermione kept her hand around her wand, just in case he tried something funny. "Who knew you were hiding those goods underneath those shaggy robes?"

"I'm here to tutor you," Hermione said in a business-like tone. "You're the one who requested me. If you don't want to work, you can go tell Professor Slughorn that you decided to change your mind." She hoped he would, but no such luck.

"Oh, you're going to tutor me, all right," Gabriel leaned in, his breath foul. He placed his hand on her cheek and she slapped it away. It only seemed to encourage him, as he chuckled. "Whoever said anything about schoolwork?"

Hermione was across the room in a second. Unfortunately for her, the door was behind Gabriel, and she would have to get past him to get to it. She pointed her wand at him, and Gabriel _cackled. _"Put that away," he snipped. "No need to get so defensive."

Hermione's eyes widened in recognition. "_Bellatrix_?"

"You do know me!" An ugly expression crossed Gabriel's face. Hermione didn't know if he was just under the Imperius curse, or if Bellatrix had taken over his body. So _Gabriel_ was the spy at Hogwarts? Why hadn't she seen it before? Abraxas had pointed out multiple times how he seemed to disappear mysteriously, always avoiding questions.

It was too easy, though. It seemed like Bellatrix wanted to through some suspicion on Gabriel, and then retreat when it got too complicated. That way, no one would ever suspect anyone other than Gabriel for all the crimes she would commit. And if she stayed with Grindelwald, there was no way to get to her unless Grindelwald himself was defeated first. And that, Hermione knew, was a nearly impossible task.

There were so many things Hermione could've said, but the first thing that popped out of her mouth was, "Were you just looking up my robes?"

"I had to stay in character, honey," Gabriel—or rather, Bellatrix—sniggered. "Unlike you. You've turned in to a big softy, haven't you? You are a disgrace to the Grindelwald line." She, too, retrieved her wand—or maybe it was Gabriel's—out of her robe pocket.

Hermione froze; she sure did have a lot of nerve, saying his name in Hogwarts. But then again, she was safely tucked away somewhere, while Hermione was still out in the open. She had more risk than Bellatrix did. There was no explosions, though, so Hermione figured she should be fine.

"Funny you should say that," Hermione said coldly. "When you yourself aren't even part of it."

Bellatrix's face twisted in fury. It had always been a known fact, even when they were still young, that Bellatrix yearned to be a direct descendent of Grindelwald. She had always been jealous of Hermione, saying that she herself was clearly the more worthy heir. It had been something Hermione had always bragged about, but now that she was more grown up, she wished that she was just a normal person with a normal family.

Unfortunately, there was nothing normal about her.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix cried. "I am clearly more worthy than you! You are a pathetic excuse for a heir. You can't even go on a mission without falling in love," she sniggered. "Do you think your true love will save you? You are an enemy from both sides. You are a traitor for the light, and a failure for the dark. There's no place in the middle, dear." Bellatrix grinned insanely. "Where will you go?"

That seemed to sum up her situation quite nicely, but Hermione wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know that she was right. "That is none of your business." Hermione said coldly.

"Oh, but it _is_." Bellatrix cackled delightfully. "Because when you get shunned by the light side, and my Lord finally realizes what a dead sack you are and drop you, _I_ will be there." She smiled sweetly, and if Hermione didn't know better, she would think that she was just another innocent little girl.

_If only Bellatrix was innocent._

Hermione didn't even deem herself with a response and tried to step around Bellatrix. Unfortunately, she was still in Gabriel's body. His muscular build blocked the entire door. "Now, don't run away, Hermy," Bellatrix sniggered. "We haven't had fun yet."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but quickly threw herself to the side as a curse shot out of her wand. Of course; fun in Bellatrix's mind meant having Hermione squirm for hours under the Cruciatus curse. Her suspicions were only proven to be true when Bellatrix waved her wand again. It hit the painting on the wall, which crashed down noisily.

"Come on," Bellatrix taunted as Hermione dodged another curse. There was a glint in Bellatrix's eyes, one that reminded Hermione quite a lot of her father. She herself had never learned that particular skill, nor had she wanted to. Just glaring coldly was enough to make most people falter. "You can do better than that, Hermy."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, dodging another curse that looked quite like the Cruciatus. If a girl like her could ever love anything, it would be that unforgivable curse. "I was giving you a head start, Bellatrix. You'll need it."

Bellatrix snarled, her face darkening considerably. It was weird seeing such a menacing look on Gabriel's face. Usually, a loopy grin or a wicked jeer was on his face. He was more childish than dangerous. Bellatrix, however, was the complete opposite.

"Fine," Hermione's voice was deathly cold. She felt the rush of adrenaline flow through her. After she had come to Hogwarts, ever since she had stopped living under her father's wing to track targets daily, she had forgotten how it felt to fight. How good it felt to wave her wand in the familiar patterns. She never told anyone, but she secretly loved the exhilaration of a fight. She didn't particularly enjoy hurting people, but a casual, intense duel was something she loved to do. "You want to play? Let's play, then."

She had always been a natural born fighter. Even her father admitted so. But there was always something that she could learn. After spending slightly more than a half a year around Tom, she had started to pick up some things from him. It was his style, but she copied it anyway; she pushed people the way he did, throwing curse after curse to overwhelm the opponent.

Five minutes later, Bellatrix lay on the ground, a long cut on her cheek. Her wand was in Hermione's hand, and Hermione's own wand was pointed at Bellatrix's head. Bellatrix's grin vanished when she noticed the position she was in, and she glared up at Hermione.

Hermione, however, just calmly twirled Bellatrix's wand in her hand. It was yet another habit she picked up from Tom. "Once again, I win." She said softly. "No surprise there."

Bellatrix let out a loud screech, and suddenly the door burst open. Abraxas stood there, his eyes wide open as he took in the scene. Hermione became aware that Bellatrix was still in Gabriel's body, and she was currently pointing her wand at his head.

"How did you get in here?" Bellatrix demanded from her spot on the floor. "There's a password to the room."

"I—Slughorn gave me the password. He said how family should get to share the honor," he shuffled around uncomfortably. "Hermione, what are you doing? I heard a yell from outside."

Bellatrix must've been incredibly loud, then, for Abraxas to have been able to hear her from all the way outside. But then again, the girl didn't know how to be quiet.

"She cursed me," Bellatrix butt in before Hermione could say anything, the girl sending her an insane grin. "Just because I didn't get a problem and she couldn't explain it to me. I can't help it that she's such a bad tutor."

"Knowing you, you probably peaked up her robes," Abraxas muttered. Bellatrix's face fell, but to Hermione's displeasure, Abraxas went to help his brother up. "I know he's an idiot, Hermione, but try to refrain from cursing him in the future." He paused. "He's the only brother I have."

_And thank Merlin for that_, Hermione thought to herself. There was no need for more Gabriels running around the place. Or more Bellatrix's, for the matter.

She was in a stuck position; she couldn't reveal who was inhibiting Gabriel's body, because Bellatrix would no doubt retaliate and drop the bomb on who Hermione's father was. The two girls looked at each other and compromised; neither of them would talk. If she wasn't so scared, if she was as brave as Nick, she would just turn both herself and Bellatrix in. But since she was nowhere near where Nick was, she kept her mouth shut.

As Abraxas helped his brother, Bellatrix shot Hermione a triumphant grin as the latter picked herself up and trudged out of the room. Abraxas barely looked at her as she left. As quickly as they had come, now her three closest companions were all mad at her in some way. And it was then when she finally understood why Grindelwald was so against friends.

They really could break your heart with just the smallest of actions.

ஐ

'_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I accidently left the door open and the cat ran away.' _Too convenient, and the less likely he was to believe it. And honestly, it wasn't like her to make such a clumsy mistake. Worse, he would ask her where she was.

'_I was experimenting on it, and it accidently grew wings and flew away. Unfortunate side effect.' _That sounded too cruel, and she wasn't sure he would forgive her after he heard that. She wouldn't be pleased if she learned that her gift was being used as a lab rat.

'_My dad hates pets and he gave it away_.' It was the closest to the truth as she could get, but it would make him slightly suspicious. He would want to meet her dad, and of course he couldn't do it. Nobody could ever do so and expect to live afterwards.

However, Hermione was spared of having to knock when the door flew open and she was face to face with Black. His hair was wet and messy, symbolizing that he had probably taken a shower. He stared at her, and she opened her mouth to explain before he could shut the door in her face. She stuck her foot out as a precaution, in case he decided to slam it. To her surprise, he motioned for him to follow her as he went in to the room. Hesitating slightly, wondering if this was some kind of trap, she followed him inside.

She had seen the inside of the Gryffindor dormitory, and it was a complete pigsty. Ron didn't particularly seem to care where he tossed his stuff, and Nick had better things to do with his time than slowly organize his belongings. And Seamus, who was a potion disaster, seemed to be able to blow up everything he came in contact with.

However, while Hermione never prided herself with being particularly neat, the Slytherin boys' dormitory was ten times more organized than her own. While she had never expected somewhat like Tom to be a complete mess, she hadn't expected this either. She stepped in to the room, and she thought she even saw the floor sparkle. That was quite a feat, considering the floor was covered in carpet.

"Hermione," Abraxas greeted curtly from his bed. He still hadn't gotten over the fact that she had been cursing his brother—or who he thought was his brother. It infuriated him even more when Hermione refused to say to justify her actions. What could she have said? There wasn't much she could do when she was found in that position, especially when Bellatrix was right there, ready to blurt out all her secrets.

Tom was lying on his bed, reading a dark covered book. He raised his eyes to meet hers when she walked in the room. Unlike earlier, there was little anger in them. However, she had found out with Tom, nonchalance was nearly as bad. Tom could curse someone with a nonchalance expression—heck, he could curse someone while grinning.

Black sat down on his bed. Upon receiving no invitation, she sat down awkwardly on the floor.

Black was looking at her expectantly. "Look," she began uncertainly, making stuff up as she went. "It was an…unfortunate turn of events, but—"

"You're pathetic," Tom called from his bed. Hermione turned and glared at him, but his focus wasn't on her. "Why don't you just tell him straight out? She was kidnapped, and she saved her own life instead of the cat's." His eyes flicked to Hermione. "Your attempts to apologize are pathetic." Hermione merely crossed her arms and looked pointedly away from him.

Black blinked. "Is that true?"

That was just skimming the surface, but it was better than whatever she had been about to say. She nodded, a little scared what his reaction would be. After all, Abraxas had said he cared quite a lot about the cat. What if he still blamed her? Surely, there had to be some way she could save it?

She was still wondering how it got sent to Grindelwald's headquarters. She doubt that the owl would've found her in the building, so it must've delivered it somewhere else. Maybe to the orphanage, or to the Weasley's house? That would mean that Grindelwald specifically went to get it. Hermione gritted her teeth; sometimes, she really hated the fact of how much power he held over her.

Fortunately, Black's face broke in to a grin that she had missed in the last week. "I'm so glad you're alright," he said, reaching over to hug her, and then quickly pulling away at Tom's dark glare. "Oops, sorry, I tripped."

Hermione smiled back; Bellatrix had said that she was a less than worthy spy because she let her feelings get in her way. But if she could feel like this daily, she would happily take her unworthy status. Hermione decided that there were just some things in life that were more important, and seeing Black's cheerful and concerned smile, she knew exactly what those things were.

And just like that, she was forgiven. If she had known it would be so easy, she would've apologized a long time ago.

"Hermione," Tom ordered, placing a bookmark in his book and snapping it shut, throwing it on to his desk. He patted the spot next to him. "Come here."

Hermione sat down next to him. "Thank you," she said. She knew it was wise not to bring up her earlier decision to sit with Nick on the train. Tom's and Nick's relationship had gotten worse. After her little encounter with Bellatrix, she wanted to go talk to Nick about it. She had witnessed a rather physical encounter with the two of them in each other's faces, hissing threats. She finally managed to drag Nick away, but she decided to hold her information for later. Nick had been clearly enraged, and Hermione doubted he would've heard anything she said.

"I didn't do it for you," Tom said, looking rather amused. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "There's still something you're not telling me. But that something is only for me."

"So only you can know about it?" Hermione's lip quirked up.

"Exactly."

Judging from the way he was talking to her, Abraxas hadn't yet told him about her encounter with Gabriel. If he did, Tom would've been questioning her about it already. She was thankful for that, and she caught Abraxas' eyes and gave him a small smile. If he returned it, it was extremely miniscule and unnoticeable.

"So, Hermione," Black grinned innocently. "You know how—"

"No."

"I haven't said anything!"

"Yes you have." Hermione looked at him sternly. "Do your own homework, Black. I'm not going to let you copy mine."

"But _Herrmyyyy_," Black crooned, and Hermione automatically flinched. _Stupid_, she told herself. It was a perfectly reasonable nickname. It just happened to be the nickname Bellatrix had been calling her ever since the two had met.

She shouldn't fear Bellatrix. She really shouldn't. She could easily beat Bellatrix in a duel. However, ever since they were young, it was always she and Nick who got punished. Bellatrix always seemed to get away with everything. She also harbored quite a big hatred towards Hermione, and she attended almost every one of Hermione's torture sessions. Hermione could still remember the maniacal look on her face as Bellatrix pushed her off a broom three stories high.

Bellatrix might as well be Grindelwald's own daughter, from the way he was completely spoiling her rotten.

Black didn't notice her silence, but Tom, being ever so perceptible, did. It also helped that he was watching her intently. "What?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing."

"That's rich, coming from you, Mister Mysterious."

Tom raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't pursue the topic. "Mister Mysterious? Aren't you awfully creative?"

Hermione laughed. "At least I'm not the person who came up with Walmart."

"What's a Walmart?" Black asked Abraxas, but the boy just shrugged. "Is it a nut? Like a walnut?" Another shrug from Abraxas. "Oh, is it those flavored types? Let me guess—it's blueberry. I like blueberry." This time, Abraxas just rolled his eyes and ignored his friend.

"How do you even come up with that? Why use a 'w' as the first letter?" Hermione continued. By now, she really had no idea what she was saying. "Why not use something like…a 'v?' Valmart sounds cool too, doesn't it?"

It was Tom's turn to flinch.

"What?" Hermione asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Tom's lips quirked up. "Nothing."

The two of them stared at each other, neither of them backing down, before the door banged open. In strolled Cygnus, Violetta following behind him. Hermione wondered if what Nick told her was correct. They did seem slightly more comfortable with each other, but she wasn't entirely sure. Her gaze dropped to Violetta's hand, and she found it. Hermione sighed and looked worriedly at Black, who hadn't noticed yet. He, especially, was going to take the news rather hard.

"Hey, Cy," Black called cheerfully. "Been doing some naughty things? Your robes are inside out."

Cygnus started and looked down, only to glare darkly at his brother for tricking him. Black laughed and tried to sit up, rolling off the bed in the process. Abraxas rolled his eyes at his friend, who was proclaiming the fact that he was dying from head trauma. Cygnus, however, looked uncertain. "Actually, that's what I want to talk to you about."

"You want to ask me for advice on making out?" Black repeated from his spot on the floor. "I'll admit that I _am_ the most experienced person, but I'm not going to share with _you_." He wrinkled his nose. "Ew."

"No!" Cygnus said, and then took a deep breath, looking around the room. Violetta herself looked quite nervous as well, but Hermione shot her a reassuring smile. "There's something I need to tell you."

He pulled Violetta in front of him and raised her hand for everyone to see. "Vi and I are engaged."

There was complete silence. Tom, eloquent as always, broke the silence and said, "That's nice." He went back to his book. Violetta looked slightly crestfallen at his response, but it was Tom they were talking about. Hermione had expected him to completely ignore them.

Abraxas looked slightly confused at the lack of excitement. "Congrats," he told Cygnus sincerely. He glanced over at Hermione. "Did you already know?"

"Yeah. Nick met them in Diagon Alley," Hermione said, and then smiled. "Congratulations. You two will make the best couple." It was a little early to be marrying, but with the threat of Grindelwald always looming over their heads, many people decided to get married young. Also, with Violetta's health condition, Hermione supposed that they wanted to get married as early as they could.

Hermione then glanced over at Black, who was still on the floor, staring in shock. The smile started to slid off Cygnus' face as he looked at his brother. "Orion…" he trailed off. It was obvious how much his brother's approval meant to him.

Black swallowed, and then forced a cheerful grin to his face. "Congrats, you two." He waggled his eyebrow at them. "I expect lots of babies." Violetta blushed, and Cygnus visibly relaxed. However, Hermione could still see the obvious sadness in his façade. Black wasn't Tom, after all; he didn't have the perfect acting skills.

Black stumbled to his feet. "Excuse me," he said, pushing past Violetta and his brother. "I need to get some fresh air." He made his way shakily out of the room, letting the door slam behind him. The room was filled with awkward silence, as the two recently engaged people shifted around uncomfortably, wondering what they could've possibly done wrong.

"I'll go get him," Hermione said gently after no one moved. Tom looked up from his book, but before he could stop her, she sprinted out of the room.

ஐ

She found him on the Astronomy tower.

"How does he stand this?" Black asked quietly without turning around as she approached him. The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky displayed a series of pretty reds and oranges and yellows. A cool wind was blowing as the snow that had been covering the ground for so long began to melt slightly. The green tips of the grass began poking its way, breaking the surface of the snow.

"Who?" Hermione stood next to him, giving him the space he needed but was close enough for comfort.

"Porter," Black said sourly, and Hermione blinked; what did _Nick_ have to do with this? "He can stand there and watch you prance around with Tom, yet he can stand there and pretend to be happy." There was a bitter tone in his voice. "He must be a phenomenal actor."

"You're wrong," Hermione shook her head. "Nick doesn't think of me like that. We're best friends. We have been best friends ever since we were born." It had been written, even before they were born. Their moms had been almost inseparable. It was only fitting to have their children nearly be the same.

Black snorted. It sounded rather pathetic and halfhearted. "Just because you don't like him doesn't mean he doesn't like you."

"Nick and I are practically siblings!" Hermione said, rather appalled at the conversation. When she had chased after him, she had expected to comfort him about Violetta, not get in to an argument about whether or not Nick had feelings for her or not. She knew he didn't have feelings about her; it was too dangerous for him to. He had told her that before, but she couldn't tell Black; he would wonder exactly _why_ it was dangerous, and she couldn't say anything.

"Practically doesn't mean a thing," his eyes darkened. "Violetta and I were practically siblings. Didn't stop me, did it?" His hand gripped the windowsill tightly, his knuckles turning white and his jaw clenched.

"Oh, Black…" Hermione moved towards him, and placed her hand on his arm. That was what triggered it.

In a second, he had her in a tight embrace and was soaking the front of her robes with his tears. "I can't help it," Black sobbed. Hermione awkwardly patted his back. She had known that he loved Violetta, but she hadn't expected his feelings to be so deep. "I tried to stop. I really tried."

"It's okay. You can't help it sometimes," she thought of her own situation. How easy would it have been to not let her feelings get away, to not care about her friends. As her father often said, having friends would just weigh you down. She would've been free. But never, if given the chance, would she have go back and change the friendship she had formed.

She had been taught the feelings were bad things while she was growing up. But now that she had come face to face with them, she had serious doubts about that. Life was about sacrifice. She had to learn what things were worth gaining, and what things were worth letting go.

"I want to be happy for them," Black mumbled. "But I just can't. I feel like my heart if breaking in to two."

Hermione, who had never really been in a situation like this before, said the first thing that popped in to her mind, "Who would've guessed that the number one heartthrob of Hogwarts was a major romantic sap?"

Black lifted his head and glared at her. "You suck."

"Very advanced vocabulary."

"Poopy. Butt face."

Hermione sighed. "It looks like you're back to normal."

Black shook his head and held his hand above his heart. "Nope, I'm not. My heart still hurts like crazy."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Take some tums, then."

"Tums?" Black blinked, looking rather confused. "What's tums? Is it like a tummy?" He wrinkled his nose. "You want me to eat your tummy?"

"No," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes," Black responded. "But you're not being very helpful. You told me to eat a tummy." He let out a gasp. "You didn't mean _Tom_ did you? You want me to eat Tom?" Black paused. "I don't think that will end well. He'll blast me to Antarctica if I even get two feet near him."

"I don't know why I even bothered to feel bad for you," Hermione sighed. "You clearly are perfectly fine."

"No, don't stop," he gave her his best puppy eyes, which, Hermione had to admit, were quite effective. No one seemed to be able to pull it off quite like him. "It helps if we talk about other things to take my mind off the subject." Hermione just shrugged, motioning for him to go on. She doubted that she would've been much of a help if they stayed on the topic of Violetta, anyway. "Okay. What's with you and Abraxas?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Nothing is with me and Abraxas."

"Could've fooled me. He walked in looking like you pulled out your mad kneeing skills again," Black barely had time as Hermione swung up her knee to demonstrate her said skills. He laughed. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

Hermione shrugged and looked away. "He walked in on me cursing his brother."

"Ouch," unlike Abraxas, he didn't seem enraged by that idea. In fact, he seemed rather amused. "But it's you, though. You don't do anything without a purpose. He probably looked up your robe or something."

"Funny," Hermione smirked. "That's exactly what Abraxas said."

"Great minds think alike," Black proclaimed. "Except my mind is great, and the other one clearly is not." He paused, getting serious again. "Abraxas, though he often doesn't look like it, cares a great deal about his brother. Gabriel used to be his role model, and Abraxas would follow him around wherever he went. It was impossible to separate him from his older brother."

"Used to be his role model?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So who's his role model now? Tom?"

Black shot her a look of mock hurt. "Me, of course. Everyone wants to be just like me." He struck a pose. "I'm perfect."

"Of course," Hermione nodded.

"I don't really like Gabriel though," Black said rather loudly. He frowned dramatically. "He's taking over my spot of the top pervert in the school. It's really not cool. Now I can't even look up someone's skirt without thinking that Gabriel had looked at the same things."

Hermione laughed. "Only you, Black."

"Actually, no," he grinned cheekily. "There's only one girl's skirt I even _want_ to look up…" he trailed off, and a frown appeared on his face once again. Hermione sighed; once again, they had gotten to the forbidden topic of Violetta.

Thankfully, Black didn't ponder too long and changed the subject. "So, what's up with you and Tom?" he asked, eyeing her cautiously. Hermione just shrugged, unsure of the answer herself. He could be concerned about her, and then automatically flip and start cursing her. It made her feel like all the moments he had seemed to 'care' about her were all an act.

"You act so oblivious to it. No one can be sure if you really don't know, or if you're just acting." Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "Abraxas, for one, finds it extremely annoying how the two of you just fight every chance you get. That's not normal."

"Because Tom and I are the definition or normal," Hermione argued back.

"True," Black shrugged. "We're not asking you to get all lovey-dovey." He paused. "Though that certainly would be interesting to see. Can you imagine Tom saying 'I love you?'" He laughed, before noticing the ugly look on Hermione's face. "Oops, were you expecting to hear that?"

"No," Hermione clipped. She had known that it was impossible, but having it thrown in her face like that still stung. "I was expecting to hear why you think it's necessary for you to intrude in my life."

"I have proclaimed myself as your official match maker," Black declared, either oblivious or ignoring her tone. "You two are fine, but both Abraxas and I agree that you two need to share more…_emotion_."

"Tom and I share plenty of emotion," Hermione replied hotly, wondering why he was suddenly so interested.

"Yes, you share anger," Black frowned, as if it really troubled him. "Every time I see you two, you're trying to hurt him physically."

"So you're concerned about his looks," Hermione said flatly. "I won't hurt him too badly. He can still have his pretty face. His other parts, I'm not sure."

Black sighed dramatically. "You're purposely making this difficult for me, aren't you?"

"Listen. Tom and I get along just fine. This is how we communicate with each other. I appreciate your concern, but I certainly am not going to go up to him and snog him senseless and declare my love for him."

"Hey, that was your idea, not mine."

Hermione glared at him. "We're changing subjects."

"So impatient, Hermione," Black tsked, grinning slightly. However, before he could say anything else, his head was suddenly flung forward and his lips brushed against hers. It was only for a second or two, but there was the unmistakable flash of the camera. Followed by some giggling.

"_Gotcha!_" the invisible person squealed happily, and they charged away. Hermione tensed; she knew that voice. Just how many times a day did Bellatrix have to annoy her? Wasn't it enough having that much power over her head? Did she have to flaunt it too? Furthermore, what on earth did she want that picture for?

"I'm sorry," Black said shakily. "I'll explain to Tom."

It was obvious that that idea was less than appealing to Black. Hermione forgot sometimes of how superior Tom was to the rest of his followers, and how his followers were deathly afraid of him. Spending time with Abraxas and Black, they often covered it up amidst their joking, and Tom usually tried to keep his cursing to a minimum. But in reality, Tom had a _lot_ of power over his followers.

"It's okay," Hermione said softly. "I'll talk to Tom myself. And if he doesn't understand it, then that's too bad for him. It wasn't your fault."

"_Noo_," Black moaned. "I have failed you, Abraxas. I have lead to another argument between Hermione and Tom. Please forgive me. Don't whip me."

"Don't be silly," Hermione scolded. "Tom and I will not argue. If he tries anything, I'll just knee him again and walk away." Black visibly gulped. "And Abraxas does not have whips."

"He does!" Black nodded excitedly, like a child opening a Christmas gift. "It was for his horse, but after he gave it away, he still kept the whip. He had to do something with it, didn't he? It was nice on display, but apparently whipping me was a better source of entertainment."

"Liar."

Black grinned cheekily. "It was worth a shot."

"Abraxas had a horse?"

"Abraxas has everything," Black said. "He's rich, in case the mansion escaped your notice. Anything he wants, he gets. The Malfoys have been learned to spoil their heirs rotten. It explains the current state Abraxas is in, anyway," Black made a face.

"What about you?" Hermione asked. "You're rich too, aren't you? The Blacks are a long line of powerful, wealthy purebloods."

"Yes," Black shifted uncomfortably. "I usually try not to ask Wallie's parents for too much, and they don't offer. I have to ask them for whatever I want. They give it to me without protest, but sometimes I can see that they really just wish I would be quiet." He shuffled around. "I don't really ask for more than food and supplies nowadays."

Hermione looked at him. "You are a really great man, Orion Black." She said, and Black looked at her, surprised. "Whichever lady who gets to start a family with you in the future will be the luckiest of them all." And she truly meant what she said. It was too bad that she seemed to like dangerous, sadistic wizards when there were other, kinder men out there. But then again, Tom was one of a kind, and she liked unique people.

Black sighed and looked back outside. "I don't think I'll get over it," he said quietly. "It'll probably lessen over time, but I think I'll always love her, just because I've known her for so long. I tried to distract myself, but obviously, my thoughts keep flowing back to her." Black let out a frustrated growl. "Sometimes I wish Cy wasn't my brother, so I can beat the crap out of him."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You have to move on, Black." It wasn't the most helpful thing that she could say, but it was all she could come up with at the moment. Maybe even _Tom_ was better at consolation than she was. She was really terrible at this.

"I will." He closed his eyes and sunk to the floor. Hermione sat down next to him. "Just…give me some time, okay? I'll get better with time." There were no more tears flowing, but the pained look on his face just said everything.

And she gave him time. She stayed with him the rest of the night.

ஐ

Hermione woke up the next morning with Black's head propped against her shoulder as the two of them slept peacefully. They hadn't found the strength to drag themselves back to the Slytherin common room. Hopefully, the person who had taken the picture of their supposed 'kiss' didn't come back and take one of the two of them sleeping. There would be enough rumors as it was.

Not that she was particularly worried about rumors. She was fine with them. She just didn't know how well Black would stand up against them. She didn't fancy going against his fan club, either. They were mad enough at her already for taking Tom.

Groggily, Black sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Morning, Hermione," he greeted, yawning with his mouth wide open as he stood up and stretched. "Do you know what time it is?"

Hermione shrugged. "The sun's still down. Maybe four or five?" She looked at him. "Do you want to go back?" She picked herself off the floor, her back aching from leaning against the hard wall.

Black started to stay something, and then narrowed his eyes. "Is that _Tom_?"

Indeed it was. Tom Riddle was making his way down the field, looking left and right as if checking to see if anyone was following him. Hermione frowned; what was he doing so early in the morning? He looked as if he was going to go out of the school territory. She nudged Black. "Let's follow him."

"What?" Black yelped. "Do you think I have a death wish?"

Hermione shrugged. "Suit yourself." She headed down the stairs. Minutes later, curiosity won out and Black fell in to step behind her. Hermione immediately regretted asking him; he walked like an elephant and would not keep his mouth shut.

Half an hour and many close encounters later, Tom sat in a pub in knockturn alley. Hermione had never been here before, but it certainly looked shady. Tom most certainly chose a pub where he would not be recognized. It wouldn't be good for him if rumor that he was out drinking before dawn got back to the ears of Dumbledore.

"Should we go get him?" Hermione whispered, watching as Tom took a couple of sips from him drink. A couple of girls wearing skimpy outfits were eyeing him, but they hadn't approached yet. Hermione clenched her fists; did he come out and cheat with her every morning?

The look on Black's face clearly told her what he thought of that idea.

Hermione was about to step out of her hiding place to go confront Tom and yell at him, when a woman stepped in to the pub. She wasn't the other girl's in this place; she wore a pretty pink dress that was usually worn to only balls or other fancy events. A hat covered her face, so Hermione couldn't see what she looked like as she sat down across from Tom. She looked _rich_; completely out of place in an environment like this. The other girls' hissed in protest, but Tom paid them no mind, focusing only on the woman who sat in front of him.

"Tom, dear," the woman cooed, holding out her head. Tom took it and kissed the top gently, and Hermione almost gagged. What was he _doing_? Was this his way of extracting information? She would've thought that he would use a more violent approach; in a pub like this, she doubted anyone would've cared if he crucio'ed the woman in front of him instead. "I have brought what you have asked,"

"Have you?" Tom inquired in a deep tone. He caressed the woman's hand lightly for a couple of seconds, before letting it go, smiling gently. Hermione had seen him act in the past, but this new face of his was really convincing. If she didn't know better, she would just think he was a romantic flirt. "I'm terribly sorry to have caused you so much trouble."

"No, it was a pleasure." The woman's lip quirked up. Black was trying to peak under her hat from their hiding spot, but the way she sat in the shadows made that idea impossible. "It was quite the venomous snake you asked for."

She pulled out a cage from seemingly nowhere. Inside sat a very large, hissing snake. It slithered around, and then its beady eyes fixed itself on Tom's. He met its gaze calmly, his eyes calculating as if judging it. He then hissed a few words at it, which the snake responded. He nodded shortly at the woman.

"What was that?" she looked amused. "You look as though you were having a fit, hissing like that."

"I'm fine, ma'am," Tom said politely. "I'll take her."

"Tom is going to have a snake in the room?" Black gulped. He clearly did not like the idea as the large snake lifted its head up to sniff the air. "Hermione, may I sleep with you?"

Hermione glared darkly. "In your dreams, Black."

"Good," the woman's lip quirked up. "She was causing quite some trouble amongst our snakes last week. We are glad to see her go to such a fitting owner." Her eyes raked up and down his body, not even concealing her actions. Tom looked amused, and leaned in even closer, reaching out to twirl a piece of her hair around his fingers.

That was what he always did with _her_, Hermione thought angrily. Now he was going to go doing it with everyone else? If that were the case, maybe she did want rumors about her and Black to spread. It would pay him back for him cheating on her, right in front of her eyes.

She had known it was happening, but actually watching was like igniting a flame inside of her.

The snake hissed, obviously displeased that the attention was no longer on it. The woman looked at it with distaste, but Tom stuck a finger in. Hermione had a mini heart attack; the woman had said that the snake was venomous, didn't she? As angry as she was at him right now, she didn't want him to _die_.

However, instead of injecting its poison as Hermione expected, it simply scuttled over and allowed Tom to pet its head. Tom stroked the scaly scalp with one long finger. The woman looked on, looking rather amazed.

"You seem to be quite popular among snakes, Mister Riddle," the woman purred, leaning in closer. The snake hissed, annoyed that its Master's attention was off of it again, but this time, Tom did not look back at it.

"Jealous?" Tom smirked, leaning in even closer. This time when she saw that there was no way the two of them were going to stop, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch. There was no way she was going to look as Tom snogged another woman. She would be scarred for life.

However, a large thud made her open her eyes again. Tom had accidently knocked the woman's hat off, and piles of black hair fell out. She was beautiful, Hermione supposed, but one thing that struck Hermione as odd was the fact of how old she was. She most certainly did not look like someone who had just graduated from Hogwarts.

Hermione made a face; Tom really was willing to snog anyone who had anything useful of his. Maybe he even kissed old ladies. The thought made her cringe. She had nothing against elderly people, but she really didn't think it was necessary for them to kiss someone who was more than half a century younger than them.

She turned to Black, but found him staring at the woman, his eyes open wide. Hermione groaned; did _Black_ also think she was attractive?

"Black," Hermione said irritably, poking him. There was no response. "Black!"

Black shook his head, as if convincing himself that he was no seeing things. "That," he pointed a shaky finger at the woman. "That is…" he trailed off, and then inhaled loudly. "She's my mother."

ஐ

Five stretched his limbs and looked at the ceiling. Hermione Grindelwald, the girl who was so rebellious in nature even though she didn't know it. Perhaps that was why she was a constant target. She was just so gullible. He had even heard Bellatrix Lestrange say that it was so amusing to trick her, just because she was so easy.

He had met her, had spoken to her. However, did the girl really deserve this? Sure, he knew that in the system, torture and other things were necessary. That was just how things worked around here. But was murder really the best option?

The plan was supposed to start in a week. He really hated this. He was sick of having to obey Grindelwald's every order, to inflict pain on such innocent victims. He despised the looks of terror and hatred they gave him as he tortured them. To want to stop his hand, but was too much of a coward to do so.

Nicholas Porter. Now that was a name that was familiar among them all. The first and only person to attempt to and successfully slip away from Grindelwald's grasp. Grindelwald tightened his hold after he left. Many of the others were also looking at Nicholas as a role model, and Grindelwald had them all executed. It wouldn't do for all his secrets to be out of his reach.

Hermione Grindelwald had always been great friends with him, and his departure hit her especially hard. Then again, so did the punishments Grindelwald inflicted on her. Nicholas Porter was out of his grasp, so he tortured the next person in line. That had always been how this system worked here.

Everyone, of course, got tortured at one point. It was Grindelwald's way to remind them their job, who they were and how much power he had over them. Hermione Grindelwald always seemed to get punished more than the rest, though he had always assumed that it was because she was Grindelwald's own daughter. He had to have higher expectations for her, after all. But after she was assigned this mission of hers, he couldn't help but wonder if they were just simply using her. She was such a clueless little girl, not even knowing what her mission was. The mission itself was highly guarded, and he himself would've not known about it if he hadn't done some snooping around. But really, what could the girl do without knowing what to do?

What surprised him was the fact that Bellatrix Lestrange knew about the mission. She always seemed to be around Grindelwald, but he was even more surprised that Bellatrix was told about these top secret missions. She was about the same age as both he and Hermione, and as far as he knew, she didn't do anything special other than cackle all day.

Though, she did enjoy causing pain, something that was absent in both him, Nicholas and Hermione. Well, in him and Nicholas, anyway. He had seen the way Hermione was before she attended Hogwarts. While she wasn't as ruthless as Bellatrix, she carried out the orders given to her. She was more composed, which made her deadlier. Not to mention, she was ten times better at dueling than Bellatrix would ever be. Nicholas' influence, he supposed. He had seen the boy duel, and he himself did not want to get on the wrong end of his wand.

Hermione had changed after attending Hogwarts. She wasn't as ruthless. She questioned Grindelwald's orders. She started to care about other people. He used to wonder how a person who loved Nicholas so much could be so cold and nonchalant towards others. Now, he knew that she was just reserving her feelings for the right people.

Unfortunately, it was those feelings that were getting her in trouble.

He shifted slightly, and accidently pressed down on the bruise he had received as a punishment today. It seemed that no matter how perfect he was, Grindelwald always seemed to find the littlest of things to punish him on. Not Bellatrix, though. Even when she had messed up badly and had to kill two Hogwarts students as a result, she got a mere scolding. She was not whipped or tied on a heater or left to drown. She got a mere 'do not do that again.' It really was not fair, nor was the way Bellatrix flaunted it.

He wanted to leave this place. He really did. This was a place for people who loved to immerse themselves in the dark arts, to inflict pain on other human beings, to discriminate against blood statuses. He was not that kind of person. While he was not necessarily kind, he did not wish for harm upon anyone either. He had almost considered going up to Nicholas and asking him for a way out. Because though Nicholas would be skeptical at first, he knew how to win the boy over. It would be too easy, and there was no doubt Nicholas could get him far away from here.

But he couldn't do that, for the exact same reason he had signed up for this in the first place.

The girl next to him shifted, and he turned around to see her brown eyes wide and a loving expression on her face. "Hey," she giggled, her breath warm against his skin. She placed a hand on his cheek, and just like that, all thoughts of running away left his mind. There was no way he could leave this place, because that would mean leaving _her_.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips and pulled back, studying her. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

She giggled again. "You didn't. I woke up from excitement," even in the dark, he could see her eyes twinkling. "We're getting our first mission! I'm excited, yet nervous at the same time," she bit her lip. "What if I don't meet up to Master's standards? What if I disappoint him?"

His heart clenched seeing her like this, seeing her talk like this. She had been independent before, and now she was worrying about pleasing someone else. "Don't worry," he told her earnestly, wrapping his arms around her. "I'll protect you."

He nearly melted under the smile she sent him. "Thank you," she touched his forehead to hers. "We're in this together, right? Till the very end." She smiled gently. "I remember our promise."

He nodded. Of course he remembered the promise. It was what he reminded himself every night, that he had promised to stay by her side. He swore he would stay with her; he wasn't going to take the easy way out and run away.

Her fingers brushed against his cheek. "I—I can't hold in my excitement though!" She giggled again, and he had to try hard not to frown at her obvious enthusiasm. "It's such a big opening task! I feel so flattered that he would ask me to do this." She paused. "You're more experienced, though. Maybe he wanted you to do it, and I'll just be a heavy weight you drag around."

She looked so crestfallen. It pained him to see her like that. "Of course it isn't like that," he reassured. "You're a perfectly capable witch. I'm sure your magical abilities caught his eye."

Her face brightened considerably. "I spent the afternoon with Bella," she said. He flinched slightly at her name, but she didn't seem to notice. She and Bellatrix seemed to be pretty good friends, something that worried him. Sure, he had living proof right in front of him, but whenever he saw her with Bellatrix, it was a constant reminder that she had changed dramatically. "She told me the whole plan. It'll be so easy," her eyes shone with adoration. "He'll never know what' coming."

He felt sick. He loved the girl in front of him, he really did. It was just at moments like this that he didn't recognize her at all. She had changed so much from the carefree young girl he had met many years ago. And while he was trying to keep up with her, he found that she was changing much too fast, changing in to a different person entirely. And he most certainly did not love this new person.

The girl he loved would not talk about someone else's assassination with a huge smile on her face, as if she were just discussing what flavor of ice cream she enjoyed to eat.

She snuggled in to him, her eyes blinking drowsily at him. "I have to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." She laid one last kiss on his lips and smiled gently, a look that melted him in to a puddle. "I love you."

That was all it took; he was absolutely smitten with her again. He absolutely despised the moments where she sounded like Bellatrix, but if that was the price to pay to see her like this, he would happily take it. "I love you too," he whispered back, and she closed her eyes. "Sleep tight."

There was nothing he could do about it. He would never find the courage to leave her, and if he couldn't leave her, then he could never leave Grindelwald either. He just hoped Hermione Grindelwald would be able to stop her father, but he seriously doubted it. For someone so smart, the girl was strangely oblivious to her surroundings.

There was a huge storm that was about to hit Hermione Grindelwald, that was for sure. And the girl didn't even know it was coming.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>The ending scene has something to do with the plot, but I think I mainly put it in because all these lovey-dovey moments are absent with Tom x Hermione, so I had to get my romantic-ness out _somewhere._

And honestly, Hermione. You're terribly at consoling someone. Even _I_ could do better. But then again, with company like Tom, she doesn't get much of a chance to use that skill.

Until next time.


	24. Chapter 23 Revealed at Last

**Author's Note: **Finally, another chapter. I'm getting lazier and lazier. I'll probably not update again for a long time, because I'm currently revising the first few chapters, writing a fic for a secret santa fic exchange, finishing this oneshot I started, and dealing with real life. Sorry. Though, I might write drabbles and other pointless stuff from time to time, so add me to your author's alert list if you want to read those.

I got a twitter as well, so you can follow me there and talk to me if you want. Don't worry; I don't bite. Mariico_97 . Add me. Talk to me. Entertain me.

My fabulous beta is dealing with real life right now, so this chapter is unbeta'ed.

And whoops, I feel like I revealed a bit too much in this chapter. But meh, the whole pacing these past few chapters has been dreadfully slow, so I decided to speed it up a bit.

Also, I'm in the middle of switching around the chapters, so the chapter number might differ from the time you see it to the time you review. I don't think (hope) that it'll affect if you can review or not, but we'll see. Feel free to send me a PM and/or tweet if the review button doesn't work and you have something to ask me.

Thanks for reviewing guys.

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><p>"Cy, I need to talk to you."<p>

"Orion," Cygnus stood up, a look of relief flooding his face as he looked at his brother. Violetta sat on the bed behind him, twirling her ring around nervously. Hermione stood next to Black, unsure whether or not she was invited to stay in this close knit group. She was, after all, relatively new. Violetta had been in their lives ever since they were little children, and she knew that both brothers were extremely fond of her. And herself? Probably a friend at best. "You came back."

"Of course I came back, silly," Black ruffled his brother's hair, and Cygnus cracked one of his rare smiles. They traded looks of affection. However, Black's face immediately became grim. "You should know something." He paused and took a deep breath. "I saw Mother."

"Mother?" Cy's face immediately turned pale. "_Our_ mother?"

"No, Hermione's," Black snorted. "Of course it was her. Hermione and I saw her in knockturn alley." He paused for a second, as if deciding whether or not to say it. "She was talking with Tom."

"_Tom Riddle_?" Cygnus repeated incredulously.

"What other Tom do we know, Cy?" Black rolled his eyes. "Of course Tom Riddle."

Cygnus immediately turned to Hermione, narrowing his eyes. It had been such a long time that he had shown such hostility towards her that it took a great deal of self restraint to keep herself from cowering under the glare he sent her.

"Why was Tom there?" Hermione didn't miss the anger in his voice, nor did it go unnoticed that he took a giant step towards her so their noses were almost touching. Hermione simply met his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. She knew he had every right to be upset, but she refused to let him intimidate her. What Tom did had nothing to do with her. If she could control Tom so easily, she would've never let herself be interested in him.

"How am I supposed to know?" Hermione shrugged. "I'm not his babysitter." The notion struck Hermione as hilarious, and she pictured Tom lying in a crib as an older woman tried to change his diapers. That, Hermione knew, could never end well, and she pictured some broken bones, spilled blood and maybe even an 'accidental' death.

That thought made Hermione of what Tom was like as a baby. She could guess that he didn't cry at all, and she slightly pitied the people who were to take care of him. Having a baby stare at you with no expression on its face was truly unpleasant indeed.

"You should know," Cygnus growled, his eyes flashing angrily. Now that she thought about it, he and Tom were quite similar; they could both be quite scary when they wanted to, and they had very little control over their temper. The major difference was that Cygnus knew what love was, and was going to marry the love of his life. Tom, on the other hand, probably thought love was a synonym for tolerance.

But then again, Hermione didn't think she would quite like him the way she did now if his personality was more similar to Cygnus'. There was just something about Tom that drew her to him, like a moth to a light source.

"Well, I'm sorry," Hermione said evenly, refusing to let any emotion leak through his voice. Sometimes, she had learned from her father, showing anger was just as bad as giving up. It was important to keep a impassive expression on your face at all times to intimidate the opponent. It also frustrated the hell out of them to show that their insults were having no effect. "I don't follow him around all day,"

She knew she shouldn't use her father's lessons on her fellow students, but whenever she felt challenged, Hermione threw all her shields up. She was awfully defensive of something when she thought—or rather, knew—she was right. If Cygnus wanted an argument, then he would get one, and she wasn't going to stop halfway. It would be a war.

Fortunately, Violetta stepped in and grasped his arm. "Cy," she said soothingly, intertwining her fingers in his. "Let's talk about this rationally. There's no need to snap at Hermione. Come on, let's sit down and talk. There's no use in screaming at each other."

Cygnus visibly relaxed at his fiancé's touch, and he sat down on his bed next to Violetta, but still scowled at Hermione. "You're dating the wrong man," he said darkly. "You don't know what Tom can do."

"Abraxas warned me too," Hermione said. Saying his name reminded her that he was still mad at her. It seemed as if she was now slipping, letting parts of her cover seen by others. Another thought crossed her mind: if Abraxas couldn't even handle this, how could he handle the big truth? How could any of them handle it?

Tom was probably the only one who could handle it. He must have, after all, seen some pretty strange and gruesome things in his life. However, she knew he'd be extremely angry that she had been keeping such a big and dangerous secret from him. He liked knowing everything, after all.

But honestly, there was nothing else she could do now except to keep hiding it. She had dug herself in too deep and it was too late to try and climb out.

"You'd think that by now you'd take a hint," Cygnus said hotly. Hermione was sure that if Violetta hadn't laid a reassuring hand on his knee, he would've jumped up and tackled her. "Tom is dangerous. You know what he can do, yet you still continue to stay with him."

Hermione shrugged. She had done quite a bit of thinking about this topic when she was alone. Why did she stay with Tom? Why did she bother? It wasn't love, like they both deluded the public to think they were both in. It was mutual attraction, sure. But she had a feeling it had to do with him being dangerous and her being dangerous. As a rule, opposites attract, but she couldn't imagine Tom being satisfied with a good girl nor her settling down with some nice guy. She was not good and he was certainly not nice and the two of them made quite a pair.

Besides, she always liked a challenge.

"I know what Tom is capable of," Hermione said firmly. "And I believe that I can handle it."

Cygnus snorted. "Obviously you don't," he muttered under his breath. "Otherwise you would be running and screaming for help now." He looked at her. "You know what I really hate? People who think they're so good they can take on everything. Let me tell you. There are very dangerous people in the world. I know you think you're so great, but you're not infallible."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She had tried to keep this ugly side hidden as best as she could, but now her nasty temper was beginning to come out. She had always had anger management issues when she was little, just because she was stubborn and refused to give up until the opposition realized that she was right. "And exactly who do you think you are to tell me what I should or should not do?"

"Tom tortures people," Cygnus said. "Tom tortures people for _entertainment_."

"Cy," Black finally cut in. He had been silent ever since he had revealed that his mother had been in the pub with Tom. Hermione knew that he was probably having difficulty choosing which side to be on, and the thought enraged her. Didn't anyone think she could handle herself? She did not need everyone to constantly watch out for her. "I think that's enough. She doesn't need to know that."

"I already knew that," of course she knew that. It had been rather obvious to see. How Tom had managed to fool all the professors for so long, she had no clue. Perhaps he had just blinded them with his charming, handsome self—just so irresistible.

Maybe he had blinded her as well.

"You _knew_ that?" Cygnus repeated incredulously. "You knew that and you willing stayed with him?" he shook her head. "You're _sick_."

Those were the exact words Alphard had said about her, when he still had his memory. And perhaps that was true. They didn't even know all of it yet. They didn't know how many people she had helped torture, how many people she had killed, just because she had been too cowardly to say no to her father. But she had an excuse. She was not a sick person because she was born that way, but because of her upbringing.

It was because of her father. He was to blame for this. She was just a girl, a girl in love with books and had a bit of a temper, a studious girl that would've gone to Hogwarts and achieved all 'O's on her OWLs and NEWTs had she not been born in to the wrong family.

But she was born a Grindelwald, so she was born a murderer.

"I know I am," Hermione said evenly. If she thought his little name calling trick could faze her, he was terribly mistaken. He could make her angry if he insulted some of her decisions, but she couldn't care less what he chose to call her. Her father certainly had a more creative and scarring arsenal of nicknames than anyone else could even dream of having. "But I really don't think that's any of your concern."

"Cy, that's enough," Violetta said firmly. "I know you're upset about your mother, but Hermione has nothing to do with this. Leave her relationship with Tom out of this. It is completely irrelevant and you're just trying to add salt to the wound."

"But Vi, he was there with her," Cygnus retorted. "My mother was talking with Tom Riddle. Do you not find that the least bit suspicious? I'm doing Hermione a favor here. She has to know what she's getting in to so she can walk out before it gets too late."

"Cy, calm down," Black said, and then turned to Hermione. "Why don't you go and ask what Tom was doing there?"

Hermione snorted. "Like Tom would ever tell me."

Cygnus raised an eyebrow. "He can keep secrets from you," he said. "On top of all his obsession with torture. And you have absolutely _no_ complaints?"

Perhaps, now that he mentioned it, she did have one. He never told her anything. Of course, she knew that that was the way he was, and that she never told him anything either, but all his secretiveness was making her more curious. She would've imagined that he would've let something slip by now, but he was a pro at keeping secrets. The only thing she knew about him was that his father was a muggle who was dead, and he was like her father in every way.

It was strange that Hermione hated her father—to some extent—yet she was still willing to stay with Tom. Perhaps, Hermione thought to herself, she wanted to prove that if she could conquer one of them, she could conquer both.

"Fine," she snapped, seeing this as a rather good opportunity to give herself an excuse to question Tom. "I'll go question him, but only if you agree to stay here. I am also under no obligations to tell you more than I deem necessary. And if any of you try to eavesdrop, I _will_ know about it, so don't even try." She looked around the room. "Are we clear?"

Black nodded and shot her a grateful smile, which she didn't return. Violetta nodded solemnly. Hermione wondered when the main topic of the argument had shifted from Cygnus' and Black's mother to her relationship with Tom. She was beginning to think that all her Slytherin companions just wanted her away, thus trying to separate her from Tom.

Hermione knew they were worried about her, but honestly, she wasn't a little baby. She could take care of herself. Unfortunately, she couldn't properly show that without blowing her cover.

Cygnus frowned and looked like he wanted to say more, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Hermione simply looked at him before turning around and heading downstairs.

ஐ

She found him in the deepest corner of the library. It was early morning, so most people did not even wake up yet. However, Tom had always been an early riser, so he now sat alone in the back of the library, pouring over some book that was undoubtedly dark and dangerous. Hermione was grateful that there were no nosy fangirls who could possibly eavesdrop on their conversation. She was rather on the edge, and one giggle about Tom's looks could possibly send her in to a fully fledged tantrum.

He looked up when she sat down across from him, a slow smirk appearing on his face as he tucked his book away and leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning her cheeks. His eyes were a soft grey now, a sharp comparison to the red color Hermione knew they could become. "And what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked smoothly.

Hermione absentmindedly thought that if she wasn't her and he wasn't him, he would reach and pull her closer in to a passionate kiss, cuddling her and whispering love declarations all day long. But she was Hermione Granger, and he was Tom Riddle, and perhaps that was what made their relationship so unique and interesting. They could still get along quite well—or as well as she _could_ get along with anyone with his nature—without all the unnecessary touching.

Though they often spent their time in pointless arguments, at least they were doing something _productive_, which was more than she could say for the couples who spent their time locking lips_._

She prided herself in being intelligent, but she knew Tom was cleverer than she would ever be. He could weasel any information he wanted by using different tricks and tactics. If she had even half the cleverness Tom had, she would slowly and subtly drag the truth out from him. However, she had never considered herself to be particularly subtle, she was terribly impatient, and she knew that Tom rarely let any information out without intending it, so she just cut whatever attempt she could've tried at being subtle and said, "What were you doing with Black's mother?"

He raised an eyebrow, though nothing showed on his face. She frowned; she had wanted to catch him off guard, to see some surprise on his face. "Were you following me?" he quirked his lips, looking a bit too amused for Hermione's liking.

"Don't flatter yourself,"

"So you _weren't_ following me,"

"I didn't say that,"

Tom smirked again, but he didn't say anything. He didn't go back to reading his book either. Instead, he just sat there, two hands placed in front of him, and continued to stare at her with that eerie expression of his. It was a perfectly innocent expression, almost like a doll, and that was what made it so eerie. Because if there was one thing Tom Riddle never was and would never be, that would be innocent.

He was also just as stubborn as her, and the two of them sat there, him smiling and her glaring, because neither wanted to be the first one to give in the break the silence. An unsaid challenge had been issued, and both of them were too prideful to be willing to lose.

However, Hermione actually had a purpose and she needed him to tell her before people started coming down for breakfast. She highly doubted that if he were to tell her, he wouldn't tell her with so many people around. And if she didn't get an answer, she didn't know what Black and Cygnus would do to their relationship. She already had Abraxas mad at her; she didn't need them to be as well.

"Well, are you going to tell me?" she huffed when he continued to smile creepily at her. Hermione absentmindedly noted that his breathing was peaceful and calm—barely making any noise. He was so composed and still as well. He could easily be overlooked. And he was definitely someone that you did not want to overlook.

"Are you going to ask?"

Hermione scowled at him. "I'm not going to beg you."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I never said you had to beg. However, it _is_ a nice a touch." He smirked. "Are you going to get down on your knees and kiss my robes? Place your head to the ground and say 'Tom is the best?' Don't worry, you don't need to say that. I know that already." There was a smug smile on his face as he said this, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to kiss your robes,"

"Such a pity," Tom sighed. "What about my shoes?" He shifted his feet slightly to the left so he could admire them.

Hermione stared at them. If they got any shinier, they would've sparkled. "Tom. What were you doing with Black's mother?"

Tom regarded her curiously. "You should know, Hermione," her name rolled off easily off her tongue. After hearing it for so long, she still liked the way he said it. His voice was so melodious. It was better than her father, who spat it out like a curse. "I don't give things for free."

Hermione nodded. "What do you want?" she wanted to help both Black and Cygnus, that was for sure—but if it made her reveal anything about her background, she was going to draw a fine line between that and just walk away. She did not consider her friends to be more important than her life, and perhaps that was her main weakness. She wanted to live and feared death, and was willing to sacrifice whatever she could in order to stay alive.

"Why did you follow me?"

Hermione blinked; it seemed a bit too simple. Perhaps there was a hidden motive to this question, like there always was. Hermione chose each word carefully. "I was talking to Black," she said slowly, the smirk on his face not helping at all. He probably knew everything, and just wanted her to slip up and make a mistake so he could watch her squirm. "And we saw you walking on the field, so I dragged him along to follow you. That's all. There was no other reason." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

Tom looked amused, for some reason. "Did you like what you saw?" he purred, locking his eyes with hers and giving her his insufferable smug look.

"You were cheating on me," Hermione rolled her eyes. Only Tom would flaunt such a fact. He seemed to be under the impression that she would be _glad _that he was flirting with Black's mother. That, or he liked to watch her upset. She had a feeling that there should've been bigger explosives—maybe some tears and some screams—but frankly, she couldn't be bothered by such petty antics. "With one of your friend's mothers." Tom seemed to twitch slightly at the word 'friend.' "Who is about thirty years older."

"Were you angry?" he smirked. "Did it make you angry to watch me with her? Did you feel your heart breaking in two? Did you feel like crying?" he shot a cruel smile at her.

She honestly didn't know why anyone would ever want to date Tom Riddle. For all his charming and wittiness on the outside, he was so malicious inside. She knew he had 'dated' others before, but she was surprised that not a single rumor had leaked out about his cruel personality. But then again, this was Tom they were talking about, and he was awfully good at covering up his tracks.

He patted her head like she was a pet when she continued to glare at him. "It's alright, Hermy," he soothed. Hermione moved away and glared at the offending hand. He simply smirked at her. "You don't need to be jealous. You're not threatened by her."

Hermione decided right then and there that she was going to kiss as many guys as she could, and make sure that Tom knew about every single one of them.

It looked like he could read her mind, as he retracted his hand and sighed. "I wanted a snake," he said simply. "And it was by coincidence that they sent Black's mother to sell it to me." He did not comment on his flirting, and Hermione did not ask. "I knew, of course, that you had followed me. The two of you were making as much noise as a mandrake. I was surprised that his mother didn't hear."

"Why would you purchase a poisonous snake?" Hermione pressed, ignoring his last statement. "It costs a lot of money that I doubt you'd have," that abruptly wiped off the smirk on his face and he scowled at her. Tom rarely had anything that could make him show much emotion, but she knew that his background was a touchy subject for him.

It was something she could use if she ever needed anything to help win an argument against him.

He looked thoughtful, and then said, "Tom Riddle and his non-venomous snake?" he said, smirking cruelly. "That would be terribly out of character, no? It doesn't have the same dramatic ring to it either."

Hermione raised his eyebrow. "And what are you going to do with this venomous snake? Poison everyone on earth?" She wouldn't put it past him to try that.

Tom smirked mysteriously, but ignored her question. She hadn't expected him to answer it, anyway. "Too much talking," he said simply, and that was all Hermione heard before he reached behind her head and pulled her to him in to a searing kiss.

ஐ

_Hermione and Gabriel. Hermione and Gabriel. _

Abraxas' mind was whirling as he headed down the dark dungeons, trying to clear his thoughts. What had he witnessed the other day? Hermione had been trying to curse Gabriel. Hermione, the girl who he often thought was too innocent to be in Slytherin. How wrong he had been. She had been cursing his brother.

He knew Hermione well enough to know that she didn't do something without a reason. It was hard enough to get her to do something when she wasn't motivated. She was either extremely lazy or couldn't be bothered, or a combination of both.

But she had cursed his _brother_. Abraxas couldn't imagine what hell of a motivation there had to be.

He was still ignoring her, and she hadn't approached him ever since that incident. He was still in the process of deciding whether to ask Hermione or Gabriel what happened in that room. His brother…he didn't know if Hermione damaged his brain during her cursing, but his brother seemed different. More cruel than usual. And though he had never radiated love, what he was now was nothing more than an empty shell.

It was just coincidence that he passed by the empty classroom when he did. He heard a boy's and a girl's voice, and he was about to walk by without a second thought. The school was infested with horny students filled with lust, and he really wasn't in the mood to find two students naked and all over each other. That, and it wasn't his job. Of course, he could report the incident to Tom, who was the prefect, but it was too much work for him and he knew that Tom wouldn't be appreciated if Abraxas gave him even more work than he already had.

However, he froze in his tracks when he recognized the voice. He stopped walking and opened the door slowly and quietly. Quickly, he peeked in, his suspicions confirmed. Sitting on the teacher's desk was Eileen Prince, though an uncharacteristic cruel smirk was on her face. She had always been a rather mild girl, so seeing such an evil expression on her face was surprising.

And pacing around the classroom, hand on wand, with blue hair that was unable to be missed, was Nick Porter—Hermione's best friend.

It did not look like a makeout session. Rather, the two of them looked to be in a heated argument.

Eileen cackled gleefully. "Oh, it wouldn't be fun if I just inhibited Gabriel's body," she sneered, and Abraxas immediately felt his heart stop beating. They were talking about his brother. His _brother_. What did she mean by inhibited? "I needed someone to do the dirty work, but also someone to keep an eye out on things." She looked down at her hands and smirked. "Eileen proved quite useful. She was an introvert and stayed out of everyone's way. Very observant girl. But there's no way anyone would believe her to be a murderer. So I used her body to keep an eye out on things from the background. Pity that I'll have to destroy her." She shot him a smug look. "But you had it all figured out from the very beginning, didn't you, Nicky? You were always a very observant boy. So smart." She licked her lips and shot him a seductive look. "That's what I _love_ about you."

Porter looked angry, clenching his fists. He, Abraxas noted, quite determinedly ignored Eileen's advances. "You let them both go," he said. "Don't harm any of them. They're not part of the mission, thus there's no use in causing any more harm than necessary."

Abraxas frowned. Both of them, Porter had said. Did that mean what Eileen said was true? That she was in both Eileen's body and _Gabriel's_? How was that even possible? And what was the motive behind this? And how did _Porter_, of all people, know?

"I don't think Gabriel would _want_ me to let him go," Eileen—or whoever she was—chuckled madly. "You see, I used his body to kill those two girls. Daisy and Erica, I believe? They were so foolish. So innocent." She licked her lips. "I had the pleasure of watching the twinkle die in their eyes, to watch their mouths open wide as they screamed." She sighed. "So delicious."

_Gabriel_, Abraxas thought. _Poor Gabriel. _He felt guilty, though when he felt relief to know that he hadn't imagined it, that he really hadn't killed those two girls. He had spent many nights laying awake, wondering why he didn't remember even laying a hand on Daisy and Erica.

However, to think that his brother—even if he had been inhibited by someone else—had, made him feel rather sick.

Porter looked at her in distaste. "Only you would brag about a failed mission."

Eileen's face immediately contorted in to a look of fury. "I had to!" she screamed. "Those stupid bitches wouldn't leave me alone. My cover would've been discovered if they had kept their constant pestering." A cruel smirk appeared on her face. "I crucio'ed them a couple of times, to soften them up. And then I introduced them to death. My favorite job."

"That's what they were saying," Porter said slowly. "When they said Malfoy. It wasn't Abraxas they were talking about, but Gabriel." He paused. "But you wouldn't care either way, because you could just ditch his body if you ever needed to. It would be him taking the blame."

"Exactly!" Eileen clapped her hands together. "You're catching on, Nicky! I'm so proud of you." She leaned in as if to grasp his arm, but Porter pulled back and shot her a look of distaste. Eileen merely pouted, unfazed by the rejection.

"How did you do it?" Porter hissed, narrowing his eyes. "Normally, it is extremely difficult to have that much control over one person for such a long time, and from so far away as well, but _two_?"

"Maybe I'm just extraordinary powerful," Eileen giggled. "Are you finally coming to realize my talent, Nicky? Are you finally coming to respect me?"

Porter scoffed. "He probably gave you a spell to use,"

Eileen scowled at first, before her face turned in to a big smile. "Of course he did. He takes care of me so well," there was a loving adoration in her eyes. Abraxas wondered who 'he' could be. He also wondered if what they said was true; was Gabriel's body really being taken over completely? Was that why Hermione was attacking him? Because she realized? She had been trying to protect him, but he didn't even stop to think about it.

Then again, there was the problem of how Hermione knew. There was something fishy going on about the three of them. Something that Abraxas hadn't quite figured out yet. And something, Abraxas knew, that would be very important for him to figure out fast.

"I'm going to turn you in," Porter declared. "You, knowing what a coward you are, are probably residing very far away from here lest your temporary bodies get in trouble." Eileen scowled at him. "But I can still tell everyone about how you took over two bodies and forced them to do unthinkable actions. I can get them to strengthen the wards so that you can never come back. And that would symbolize a failed mission, would it not?"

Eileen looked nervous all of a sudden. "It is _not_ a failed mission," she said, thought she sounded as if she were trying to reassure herself. "You can't tell them. If you tell them, they'll want to know how you know. And then your own cover would be blown, wouldn't it?"

Porter. Porter had a cover as well. Did that mean he was in on this madness? Did he help this psycho take over his brother and kill two girls? Did Hermione know about this? Did she know that her best friend was a killer?

"I don't care about my cover," Porter said calmly, and that made Eileen even more nervous. "I am perfectly willing to turn myself in as long as that means you stay out of the castle. Who knows what else you'll do if you continue to stay. My life is not worth all of the people you will hurt."

"What about Hermione?" Eileen asked. "You don't care about her? What will happen to her if you blow the whole thing open? I'm sure you'd understand; she's in the worst position right now. Even worse than me," she winked. "Do you want to let her go through all this, just because you wanted to play hero?"

"They won't listen to you," Porter clenched his jaw. "Your word holds no credibility,"

"Of course it won't," Eileen smirked. "But it will throw some suspicion on her, would it not? Word travels fast in this castle. And poor Herms already has a lot on her shoulder," she cackled. "Would she be able to keep her secret under all the pressure? Because we all know that if she cracks, she's as good as dead."

Abraxas narrowed his eyes. It sounded like Hermione herself had a very big secret that she must hide. Was she also involved in this secret group? He couldn't tell. It sounded like it, but she had also tried to save him from the person inside his brother. That, or the two of them had just got in a jealousy fight of who could please the higher ups better.

"Leave Hermione out of this," Porter clenched his jaw. "She has nothing to do with this, and you know that."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "But do they know?"

There was a pause. Abraxas could almost see Porter's mind whirling, trying to find the best choice of action. At least his affections of Hermione hadn't been an act; it was obvious by the way he was trying to protect her that he still loved her like a sister. But what exactly was he trying to protect her from? There were so many secrets; none of which he knew the answer to.

Though the situation was just plain confusing to Abraxas, he couldn't help but admire Porter a little bit. He was such a loyal person, always protecting Hermione and putting her before his own needs. He wondered sometimes if the boy wasn't just desperately in love with her—enough to be willing to let her stay with Tom as it made her happier.

Eileen broke the silence first. "It's such a pity," she sighed, hopping off from the table and approaching Porter. His eyes followed her movement warily, his hand touching his wand in his pocket. "Why do you have to protect her so much? You and I can be happy. We'd be so powerful. You don't need to do this for her. She'll be gone soon, and we'll be undisturbed." She shot him a seductive grin and leaned back on a desk to give Porter full view of her body. "I can give you so many things that she can't."

"How many times do I have to tell you this, Bellatrix?" Porter scowled, his eyes never straying from her face. Bellatrix. So that was her real name. The name of the person who had taken over Eileen's body and destroyed his brother's. Abraxas clenched his fists angrily. This Bellatrix would have to pay. He would make sure of it. "I am not interested in you, nor will I ever be." A thought seemed to pop in to his head. "However, I will consider your proposal if you go and turn yourself in."

Bellatrix cackled. "Nice try, Nicky," she said. "But I'm no idiot. I know what you're trying to do. And if you won't love me," she leaned in, her voice becoming a teasing whisper. "I'll _make_ you love me."

"That will never happen," Porter said coldly.

"Oh, but it _will_," Bellatrix smiled gleefully. "Once that damn bitch is out of our lives, you'll find yourself running back to me for comfort." Her face darkened suddenly. "She's so annoying, so stupid, yet she gets to play such an important part. And the funny thing is, she _doesn't even know_." She laughed and laughed, as if it was the funniest thing that she had ever said. "So oblivious, so _naïve_."

"She won't be gone," Porter said calmly. Abraxas, for the first time, admired his demeanor. How he could remain so calm and peaceful when faced with an obviously insane woman who was plotting the death of his best friend. He himself would've crackled and ran for help hours ago. But perhaps Porter was already used to it. "There's no proof on Hermione. There never will be."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Bellatrix said, a smug look on her face. "There's no real evidence. But Nicky, do you honestly think that we're not skilled enough to produce our own evidence? It's _so_ easy." She grinned. "Soon, that bitch will find herself under fifty two charges for murder, as well as some for torture and trespassing. The list will go on and on." She sighed contently. "I daresay, even a lifetime in Azkaban wouldn't be a fit punishment."

Porter looked like he wanted to say something, but then Abraxas did what was probably the stupidest thing in his lifetime: he barged in to the room, drawing both their attentions to him. Bellatrix immediately relaxed when she saw that it wasn't Dumbledore, but Porter had a tense look on his face, glaring at the door as if it should've closed and silenced itself.

"Stop it," he said. Now that he was in the same room as the two of them, he felt all his confidence leave him. Bellatrix certainly was frightening; she had the insane look on her face as she regarded him as if he were just a little rat. "You can't do that."

"I do as I please," Bellatrix simpered. She shot Porter a triumphant smile. "What are you going to do now, Nicky? He heard everything. He could go babbling to the professors. Think of what'll happen to Hermione then."

He was still rather confused about the whole thing, but if he knew one thing, it was that Hermione was not responsible for all the damage this insane woman had caused. He had doubted her too many times, and this was one time he wanted to stand by her. However, that did not mean that he wouldn't question her when the two of them got to talk later.

"I won't tell," Abraxas said, glaring at Bellatrix. Porter visibly relaxed, and he shot Abraxas one of the few grateful smiles that Abraxas had seen the boy give. "I won't let Hermione get in trouble for something you did."

"Do you hear him?" Bellatrix cackled. "He's talking as if he knows what's going on." She smiled at him as if he were just a little baby. "You think you know what's going on, don't you? You think you're so smart?" She cooed at him. "Who's the smart one?"

Porter narrowed his eyes, and then made a frantic gesture. "Malfoy," he called out. "Malfoy, get out of the way, _watch out!_"

Abraxas barely had time to register his words when he saw Bellatrix's face immediately wiped clean, a dangerous look replacing her smile. Her eyes glittered darkly and her mouth was pulled up in a vicious smirk. Before Abraxas could comprehend anything else, an unbelievable pain hit him, and Abraxas blacked out.

ஐ

"Found you,"

Hermione looked up and was surprised to see Tom, his usual smirk on his face, standing in front of her. His eyes swept around, taking in the surroundings—clearly, he had never been down here before—before he sat down opposite her.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione said warily, eyeing him. She had not told him she would be coming down here, so she had no doubt that he had been looking for her. She wondered who he had asked. She had been spending some time with Ron before she came down, so he was the only one who knew. Had Tom went to go ask Ron? That couldn't have ended well.

"Can't a man be hungry?" Tom said, before waving over one of the house elves. They disgusted him to no end, but he was forced to be polite as news travelled fast around Hogwarts. Had it been anywhere else, he wouldn't have hesitated to kick and curse them. "Get me a firewhiskey."

"Tom, you're a prefect." Hermione said as the house elf scuttled away.

"It's the weekend," was all she got in response. Tom's eyes zeroed in on the little object on the countertop, and he reached over for it. "What's this?" he asked as he picked it up, tilting it back and forth.

SPEW, it said. Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Tom couldn't prevent a cruel smirk from appearing on his face.

"This is what you spend your time on?" he sneered coldly. Hermione flinched slightly, but still met his gaze evenly. "This little childish organization of yours?" this was disgusting. Why would she want to promote the rights of those disgusting creatures? They didn't deserve any rights. They were slaves and were meant to stay slaves.

"That's rude," Hermione said. "It's a work in progress, though I want to make it official before Valentine's day. Maybe the house elves won't be so afraid to find some love them." She had a dreamy look on her face, and Tom wanted to pull out his wand and curse her.

"That's disgusting."

"I know. You said that already," Hermione said offhandedly, taking out her bag. Inside were millions of buttons that were the same as the one he was holding. Tom glared at it. He could almost feel the filth that it was radiating. It was making him sick. "Say, would you like to join?"

"Would I like to _what_?"

"Join," Hermione said simply, as if she hadn't just insulted him by offering. "You're fairly well known around the school, are you not? It'll help promoted the popularity if you wear the button. You don't even have to do anything, just wear it and hand out some when people ask to join." She smiled at him. "Not too hard for you, is it? It's not rocket science, Tom."

Tom stared at her, trying to determine whether or not she was joking. She didn't seem to be. "I'm not wearing something that I completely disagree with. Though," his lips twisted in to a cruel smirk. "I will help participate in burning the buttons." Tom glared at her. She was a Slytherin, and she was promoting house elf rights. It was a disgrace for the entire house.

Hermione scowled at him. "Do it. Or I will forcefully glue it to your robes." The look on her face clearly said that she wouldn't hesitate to so do either.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Resorting to threats, are we now?" He tsked. "I didn't figure you'd use such petty tactics."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I learn from the best," she said sweetly, and Tom glared at her. She paused. "Please? I'll do anything." She looked at the house elf sadly, who had returned with a glass of firewhiskey for Tom. He accepted it without sparing it a single glance, resisting the urge to do something absolutely horrid to it.

Tom looked like Christmas had come early. "Anything?" He repeated, a smug look appearing on his face. Perhaps he could weasel something out of this after all. Hermione seemed to be desperate enough to make him wear the button.

"That I deem is appropriate, yes," Hermione said, a little bit worried. With Tom, she didn't have to worry about consequences such as running naked around the school. It was more about the personal information on her background that she was afraid that he was going to ask. And quite frankly, she would prefer to run around the school naked any day.

"I want to know about your mother,"

It was certainly not the worst of the questions he could've asked, but Hermione didn't feel comfortable sharing either. She had never shared it before—not to anyone. However, she thought of the SPEW buttons laying in her bed, the poor house elves who were kicked and tortured every day, and forced herself to start.

"Fine," she said. "My father loved another woman when he met my mother—or as much as he could love someone, anyway. When the other woman died, he changed my mother to be an exact replica of her to compensate for his loss. That is why, I have never known my mother to be who she really was, just who my father wanted her to be."

"Porter's mother is the other woman?"

Damn, as always, he was so perceptive. She decided it would be wise to ignore his questions, lest she gave something important away. "I never really knew my mother," she shrugged. "She was usually away, and the times we spent together were rather awkward." She didn't add that her mother had once saved her from Grindelwald, and that after that incident, Hermione had respected and loved her more than anyone to this date—except, maybe, Nick. "I was only four when she died. The memories are very vague now."

"How did she die?"

Hermione was silent.

"_Hermione_," Tom grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. For a moment that was supposed to be sad and sympathetic, Tom certainly was doing the exact opposite. Hermione didn't feel comforted, but perhaps, she wasn't looking to be. "_How did she die?_"

Unable to help it, tears started flowing down her cheeks. Tom look startled, almost as startled as she was. She _never_ cried. Ever. Not even with her father's cruciatus curse, not with anything. It was a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, yet she could not stop herself.

"I…" Hermione trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut. "_I killed her_."

She buried her face in Tom's robes, and though he shot her a disgusted look, he didn't try to push her off. They sat like that for a long while—her bawling her eyes out while he tried not to react violently as she soaked the front of his robes with her tears.

"Oh Tom," she said, sniffling. Her voice was muffled. "I had to. I did."

Tom's hand was rested in her hair and he stroked it. Hermione couldn't help but notice that it wasn't a loving gesture, but rather a possessive one. "It's not your fault," he soothed. "There's nothing wrong with killing."

"That's easy for you to say," Hermione snorted. "You hated both your parents." There was a long pause. She then realized that he had never told her about his mother either. What kind of woman was she? She couldn't help but wonder. Was she cruel and evil? Tom certainly didn't seem to have gotten that bit from his father. However, she knew that this was not the time to say it.

"You said you were halfblood," Tom said finally. Hermione nodded the best she could with her head still buried in his robes. "It sounds like your father was the one with the wizard blood in him," again, Hermione nodded. She couldn't imagine Grindelwald ever being anything but pureblood. "That means that he willingly used a Mudblood to impersonate someone else." He sneered. "He must've been so desperate."

Her father had been desperate, that she knew. His most prized possession had just slipped out of his fingertips so unexpectantly, he needed something to quickly replace it in order to keep himself sane. It wasn't love; more like he went in to withdrawal that something he thought he possessed could slip through his fingertips so easily.

That was when her mother came in. She was so innocent, so unaware of the huge part she played. Hermione couldn't help but think that if her mother hadn't fallen for Grindelwald's charming self, that Grindelwald might've just fallen in depression and died of shock. And though she would've never been born, the world would've been a better place.

But then, her selfish side kicked in and she told herself that no matter what kind of hell the earth was in, she still wanted to be able to live in it.

"You stopped crying," Tom noted. Indeed she had, though she hadn't noticed. Perhaps she had exhausted her tear supply. She hadn't cried in _years_, though, and it felt nice to let it out. Though, she had never expected that it would to be under these circumstances. She had imagined herself in her room, crying silently in to her pillow. She had never revealed her mother to anyone. Nick was the only person who knew about it, and it was not because she told him. He had been there, had comforted her.

He really was too good for her. Everyone was too good for her. Even Tom.

"You sound surprised," Hermione commented dryly as he sat up. She noted the huge stain in the front of his robes. Tom caught her looking and smirked at her. Hermione merely scowled at him. "I have _some_ self control, thank you."

"I'm not sure about that," Tom teased. "You did throw yourself at me after all. I was wondering when you'd crack." He had a smug look on his face. "I'd say it's a victory for me."

"Don't be silly," Hermione scolded. "Remember that time when you were drunk and slobbered all over me? You're lucky I didn't reveal that to the entire school. I daresay your reputation would plummet quite fast if people found out that you were really like that," she stuck her tongue out at him.

Tom didn't even flinch. "What about the time where you were drunk and molested me? I think people would pity me. After all, I am just an innocent, naïve little boy, being molested by an angry mountain lion."

Hermione scowled at him, standing up. "Remember to wear the button."

"You're leaving already?" Tom pouted in a way that made him look like an adorable puppy, on contrary to his real personality. "No good bye huge? No farewell kiss? I'm disappointed." He held on the hem of his robes. "You destroyed my robes, so it's only natural you should kiss it to make me feel better."

"In your dreams, Riddle," Hermione sniffed, before turning around and slamming the kitchen door on him. She could still imagine the smirk that must be present on his face.

Hermione would've expected to feel terrible after that. After all, she had just revealed one of her deepest and most personal secret to someone who would only wear a button in exchange. However, she felt rather lighthearted. Tom had listened to her, and rather than trying to comfort her, had simply been himself and that was what she wanted him to do. Of course, his insults to her father made her feel a lot better as well. There was nothing like insulting the world' most dangerous wizard.

She and Tom suited each other just fine.

ஐ

Abraxas peeked in to the room. Tom sat in the dorm by himself; Black and Cygnus were nowhere to be seen. He was relieved that there was no one else to listen in on their conversation, but now that there was no one around, he would have to play along with Tom's silly desire to be all powerful.

He was thankful that Tom didn't know occlumency yet. Otherwise, he would be writhing on the ground, under the cruciatus curse.

"My Lord," he dropped down on his knees, crawling over to kiss the hem of Tom's robes. The boy barely paid him any attention, continuing to flip the pages of his book without even looking up. Even as he sat, there was an air of superiority to him. His posture was perfect, and his fingers elegantly turned the pages.

After a couple minutes of tense silence, Abraxas spoke up again. "I have something I need to ask of you, My Lord," he tried. Again, no response. Steeling himself against the possible torture he might face for mentioning her name, he added, "It's about Hermione."

It worked better than he expected it to. Tom immediately slammed his book shut and looked down at Abraxas. "What?" he asked harshly, all of a sudden interested in what Abraxas had to say. Abraxas almost raised an eyebrow that he was so interested in something regarding Hermione, but then he remembered that it was Tom in front of him, and made sure to respectfully keep his head down.

He had been truly surprised when he woke up with all his memories intact—and even more so that he was still alive. He expected that at least one of them would have killed him, or removed his memory as a precaution. He had a feeling that Bellatrix had wanted to, but no doubt Porter saved him. _Yet the boy still let him have his memories._ Did he trust Abraxas wouldn't blab? It was an awfully big secret he was entrusting on someone he barely knew. And it wasn't even his own secret; it was Hermione's.

Or perhaps Porter and Bellatrix had gotten in to a fight, and he had woken up and got away before either of them got back. It certainly seemed more plausible. Porter obviously didn't harbor any hidden feelings towards him. In fact, he was quite sure that if the two of them were alone, Porter wouldn't hesitate to curse him.

Nevertheless, he wasn't going to reveal Hermione's secret. At least, not until he figured the whole thing out himself. And he knew that Tom was extraordinarily perceptive; it would only be a while before he figured it out. Abraxas figured that he might as well be helpful for once and tip him in on it. Tom would certainly figure it out faster than he could, and maybe he'd be nice and actually share the information he worked out.

Abraxas snorted. Tom Riddle was never nice.

"My Lord," Abraxas said. "Do you know anything about a woman named Bellatrix?"

Tom paused for a second, narrowing his eyes. "Bellatrix Black," he said finally. "A very distance relative of Orion and Cygnus. They avoid talking about her because they're embarrassed to be related. They would probably get kicked out and locked in Azkaban if anyone found out their relation, though only an idiot wouldn't notice their surnames." He raised an eyebrow, slightly curious of why Abraxas wanted to know. "She's one of Grindelwald's closest followers." There was a look of disgust as he mentioned Grindelwald's name. For someone who was so like him, Tom had never liked Grindelwald.

Abraxas froze. Bellatrix was one of Grindelwald's closest followers? And she had been in Hogwarts, not through one body, but _two_? And in his _brother's _body? And somehow Porter and Hermione had something to do with this? It made some things more clear, but it also made many more questions arise. There were still many mysteries that he did not have the answer to.

Then, Tom narrowed his eyes and asked the question that Abraxas wanted desperately to find out. "What does Hermione have to do with this?"

ஐ

They all stood on a hill, Grindelwald standing on the very top. Bellatrix was not too far away from him, affection written all over her body. Five was there as well, grasping hands with his girlfriend. Unlike her, Five was completely tense and unhappy to be in this meeting. His girlfriend, however, couldn't be more excited. She was chatting excitedly, though for once, he couldn't hear a word she was saying, nor did he care. He didn't want to hear her talk about how wonderful Grindelwald was. Grindelwald was not wonderful, nor nice, nor caring, nor any of the other adjectives that she used.

Grindelwald raised a hand, and instantly, everyone fell silent. "My minions," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. Even the people in the very back of the group could easily hear him. "We have made great success this year." A cheer went through the crowd. Five remained silent, but when his girlfriend looked at him, he let out a halfhearted cheer. She smiled and squeezed his hand again, and he decided right then and there that he would make more of an attempt to cheer when Grindelwald spoke.

He was still very much in love.

Grindelwald waited for silence before continuing. "Thanks to some people," he said, and Bellatrix made a big show to draw the attention to her. Five rolled his eyes; if there was anything that insane girl did during the entire operation, it was screw things up. He was surprised that Grindelwald hadn't tossed her off the team yet. She made too many mistakes for someone in the professional level. "This mission is going along faster than expected. We are much closer in getting him on our team."

He paused. "Many of you are unsure why we spend so much effort to get him to join us," Grindelwald said. "You do not know of the magic he is capable to performing, what power he has when he wields a wand, the terror he can cause among the population." His eyes darkened excitedly as he scanned the crowd. "With him, we will be able to rule the world. There will be no opposition. No one will be able to go against us." He paused. "Anyone who opposes this can speak now."

But of course no one protested, because he was Gellert Grindelwald, and his words were the law.

"Very well," Grindelwald said maliciously. "My daughter has been, and will be kept in the dark. She is to remain oblivious." His eyes glowered dangerously. "Are we clear?" There was a chorus of nods around the crowd. Five couldn't help but notice that Bellatrix looked sour that Hermione had been mentioned in his speech and she hadn't.

"Poor Bella," the girl next to him whispered. Five didn't think Bella was poor at all. Rather, that title went to anyone who had the misfortune of meeting her. "She always wants to be talked about at meetings, but Master never mentions her." She herself had never mentioned Hermione, so Five didn't know what her feelings were towards her. Were they good? Bad? Murderous?

"I have one last thing to mention," Grindelwald's eyes glittered in the darkness. There was a cruel smirk on his face as he addressed the crowd. Bellatrix, Five decided, was looking a little too pleased with herself. "Should any of you come across this opportunity, do not hesitate to act on it," he scanned the crowd, speaking each word slowly. "Kill the spare."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Next chapter will be around the halfway point, or maybe even more than that already. Nonetheless, this story probably won't exceed 48 chapters, but right now, I'm going to try to aim for 30 and not get ahead of myself.

Thanks for reading. Till next time.


	25. Chapter 24 Of Sorrows and Regrets

**Author's Note: **Yayy. Miss me? Or the better question: remember me? Yeah. It's been…two months(?) since I last updated? Sheesh time flies. Anyway, here's the new chapter. Very little Tomione moments in here, but it's a very big chapter plotwise. So, hope you enjoy it.

On a separate note, here comes my endless story pimping! **The Quartet of Helpers** is a AU fic I published for Christmas. I have finished my Secret Santa fic which will be posted some time after Christmas, so stay tuned for that.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I have started review replying again, so I will get back to you if you have any questions.

TheEscapeFromReality, Double R Starr, werevampluvr, LadyBalacenia, Eventual Evanescence, reader204, UniCryin, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, tablekorner, Roguebludger, hateme101, Spectacular6, priestess-yukii18, Kirtash R, Anon, Alassea Riddle, Pirate Queen ofthe 21st centry, Kaien Brief

Also, since I rushed this chapter (yes, I know. I had two months and I still rushed it.) there might be some mistakes in it. I still have no beta, so…yeah. Try to ignore them, though if you tell me I'll be happy to change it.

* * *

><p>"Thank you for coming, Miss Granger. Please take a seat."<p>

Hermione did as she was told, though she watched the transfiguration teacher warily. While she did as well in his class as she did in everyone else's, he had not shown particular interest in her, and that she had been fine with. Her original plan—though she failed quite miserably—was to not attract too much attention to herself. Dumbledore, she knew, was extremely perceptive, and she didn't need him to start investigating her background.

There was only one reason he would want to call her to his office, and it sure did not have anything to do with grades. If it did, there was no reason for him to talk to her individually; he could just talk to her after class. Hermione clutched her wand with her hand. She was sure that she couldn't defeat Dumbledore even if she tried her hardest and he was without a wand, but she could at least attempt to stun him to give herself time to run. She couldn't apparate in the building, so she would need to go somewhere where she could.

This had to be about her secret. She was slipping. She had been so careful in the beginning, but as she got used to Hogwarts, she started to delude herself into thinking she was just a normal student. She was _not_. She was not even at the school to study. She was there on a mission. And so far, she had been so impressed with the school that she had not done much of anything else.

Her father had sent her a note that warned her that she needed to get back on task. Of course, the mail was not all butterflies and rainbows; there had been quite a lot of death threats towards Nick and even her Slytherin friends, though it did not escape her notice that Tom was never included. Did he know of Tom's magic abilities and felt that he could not beat him a duel? That did not seem possible. Grindelwald believed himself to be better than all; there was no way that he believed a schoolboy could beat him in a duel, no matter how talented that schoolboy may be.

Why was Tom the exception?

"Sir, I have somewhere I need to be soon. If you could make this as fast as possible, I would appreciate it," said Hermione. That was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. To be honest, if he did know her secret, she wanted to get it over with as fast as possible. She had never talked directly to Dumbledore, but she found that she quite liked his lectures. She respected his views, and though she had grown up with a lot of Dumbledore hate, she found her opinions of him to be shifting quite considerably. She didn't really want to hurt the man, but then again, she didn't fancy going to Azkaban for life if he did know she was Grindelwald's daughter.

As much as she hated to admit, she was still a coward. She would not hesitate to curse Dumbledore if her life was in danger. She still, after spending nearly half a year in Hogwarts, feared death and her father more than anything else.

"Yes, of course Miss Granger." His worried expression made Hermione feel even more nervous. Why would he feel worried? The only expression she had expected to see on his face was anger, but she supposed Dumbledore was not as hotheaded as she was. "I will try to make this as fast as possible."

Right after he said that, he stood up and started pacing around the room. Hermione opened her mouth to tell him that he was going as _slow_ as he possibly could, but then shut it quickly, knowing that she couldn't rush him even if she wanted to. She picked at a scab on her hand, all while watching Dumbledore out of the corner of her eyes to make sure he didn't decide to kill her when her back was turned. She didn't think it was quite his style, but she had learned from experience to expect the unexpected.

After about ten minutes of endless pacing and Hermione's impatience gradually rising, Dumbledore finally turned back towards her and sat down in his chair. "It has been brought to my attention," Dumbledore began, and Hermione's heart sank. _He knew_. Her hand drifted down to her wand holster, fingering her wand. It seemed that she would have to use it after all.

Dumbledore continued, not noticing the pained look on Hermione's face, "that you have been getting increasingly closer to Tom. It is even said that the two of you are currently dating." He looked at her expectantly. "Is this correct?"

Hermione blinked; that had _not_ been what she expected to hear. Was Dumbledore suddenly interested in gossip? Why else would he be interested in her life? "I suppose so," Hermione said cautiously, not knowing where he was going with this line of questioning. "We have been talking more."

She also wondered who on earth would be bored enough to report her relationship with Tom to the transfiguration professor.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore sighed. Hermione looked at him quizzically. Her professor suddenly looked very fatigued, and she could've sworn he looked slightly annoyed as well. "I have a feeling that you have been informed by many people, but Tom is not who he seems."

"Yes, I am aware of that," Hermione nodded. Abraxas, Cygnus and Black had taken turns informing her of that fact. Not to mention, it did not take a genius to see behind that sickening sweet image he set for himself. She had figured out quite quickly that there was a darker side to the Slytherin prefect.

Dumbledore looked at her as he expected her to say more, so she added, "I appreciate your concern, sir, but I believe that I am able to handle it. I have encountered much more difficult things in the past." Hermione resisted the urge to tape her mouth shut; once again, she had said too much. However, if Dumbledore noticed the extra information she gave him, he didn't show it.

"I am aware of the image that Tom puts up in public," Dumbledore said, "However, I regret to be the one to inform you of this, but Tom has a darker side. You would be appalled to learn of the things he considers hobbies. He enjoys killing and torturing other students for his own pleasure."

Dumbledore was looking at her expectantly, probably watching for any signs of horror or disgust that might show on her face. However, she knew what he was like. And like she had said before, she had seen worse, _much_ worse. And frankly, she believed she was quite similar to Tom. The only difference was that Tom had a choice with what he did. She, on the other hand, was forever stuck doing someone else's bidding.

"I know of his hobbies, sir," Hermione said, enjoying the brief moment where surprise flickered over Dumbledore's face. It wasn't often that one could catch the transfiguration professor off guard. "I do not say I support them, but I have learned to deal with them." She looked at him, hoping that he would drop the topic.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore had been always known as being rather persistent. "Miss Granger, I have all my confidence in your abilities, but this is not something you can merely deal with," said Dumbledore gravely, "Tom knows things that no one should _ever_ know. He knows things that are hidden for a reason. He immerses himself in all the wrong knowledge."

Instead of driving her away like he hoped, he only succeeded in intriguing her even more. Tom was powerful, that she knew. But she hadn't quite known how much information she had. She wanted to know it now. While it was most definitely dark, she couldn't help but feel the familiar pull—the same pull she felt whenever there was new knowledge to be learned.

"Tom is a very troubled kid," Dumbledore continued. Hermione wondered why he even bothered; didn't he realize yet that she was not so easy to chase away? But then again, he was giving her more information about Tom than Tom himself had ever given her, so she supposed it wasn't a complete waste of time. "He had a very troubling childhood, and by the time I got to him, it was too late to help him."

Hermione listened, nodding politely, knowing that if she opened her big mouth, she would no doubt blurt out something very stupid.

"His magic is very strong. I am sure you felt it." Hermione nodded. Of course she did. Even without spending so much time with him, she could feel his magic nearly a mile away. "It is a wonder how it took me so long to detect magic in that little town. But by the time that I did and arrived at the orphanage, it was too late. Tom had already driven two innocent children to insanity."

Hermione blinked. She had done some research on Tom's family—without his knowledge, of course—so she knew that he had been orphaned only minutes after he was born. She never brought it up with him because he didn't seem to enjoy talking about his past too much.

However, she knew nothing of his life at the orphanage. She had suspected that he must have started doing evil deeds while he was just a child, but she hadn't expected it to be something on such a large scale. _Insanity?_

What had _she_ been doing when she was a child? She had trained for a majority of her childhood with Nick. Her father kept her out of missions for the most part. However, after her mother's death, Grindelwald had started sending her off to kill his enemies.

Tom hadn't had a normal childhood, but then again, neither did she. Though he didn't know most of it, he didn't judge her on the things that he did know. And while Hermione did not consider herself to be the nicest person, when someone else did something for her, she always returned the favor. Tom had his problems, and she had hers. As long as they both acknowledged that fact, she did not see a reason why she should stay away from him.

"What happened?" Hermione asked softly. Dumbledore was looking at her now, his gaze intense. Hermione shifted her head slightly so she could look away from his eyes without looking too suspicious. She could usually feel it when someone was using legilimency on her, but with someone as powerful as Dumbledore, she didn't want to take her chances.

"Their names were Amy and Dennis," Dumbledore replied, "They were just two normal children, until one day…Amy caught Tom's interest." Hermione swallowed. She had seen Tom's possessive side multiple times. He didn't like to give up things he believed to be rightfully his property. "Amy liked Tom well enough, but then Amy liked Dennis as well. And Tom, of course, did not like Dennis."

"Uh oh," Hermione mumbled softly.

"There is no proof against Tom," Dumbledore continued. Hermione could've sworn he mumbled '_there never is,"_ under his breath. It wouldn't surprise her; Tom seemed like a careful person—_too_ careful to leave behind any evidence. "The two children were found in a cave later, out of their minds. Tom had been there with them. Tom was the only one who came out the way he went in. However, there were no marks on either one of their bodies, so there was almost nothing the muggle police could do. By the time that they got there, Tom was already safely away from the cave. He did not have an alibi, but the police deemed it impossible for him to have gotten away as quickly as he did."

"How do you know he was there in the first place?" Hermione questioned. After all, that had to be a lot of magic for a kid without a wand to do to drive two other kids insane.

"There are some things, Miss Granger, that you just know," said Dumbledore. Hermione didn't think that counted as proper proof, and she was almost certain that Dumbledore was lying to her, but she didn't push it. She wasn't particularly interested in hearing how he kept tabs on Tom's life. She still had nothing against her transfiguration teacher, but she couldn't help but understand now why Tom hated him so much. Dumbledore clearly had a lot of control on Tom's life, and if there was anything that he hated, it was being caged in and inspected like a lab rat.

"By the time I was able to meet with him, I discovered that he had being doing other things as well," Dumbledore said, "They were little crimes, such as stealing objects, but they were crimes nonetheless. Even at such an early age, he was already excelling in the skill of lying. Had I not been as perceptive, I would never have known he was lying."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Dumbledore seemed to think a lot of his skills, and by his tone and the words he was speaking, she could tell that he believed it was his responsibility to make sure Tom was on the right track. She didn't think it boded too well with Tom.

"I will leave you to think on what I have said to you," Dumbledore said, looking a little appalled that she hadn't run off screaming. "Tom has been known to deceive people at will. I can not, and I have no intention to force you to leave him. That decision is for you to make on your own."

"Thank you, sir. I will do so," Hermione stood up. Of course, she had absolutely _no_ intention of breaking it off with Tom, at least not yet. She was a big girl. She could defend herself well enough. Dumbledore had no doubt tried to scare her away, but his stories weren't new information to her. Perhaps the only thing she learned from this meeting was to stay away from caves when she was with him.

Dumbledore looked at her, as if trying to decide what type of foolish girl would react so calmly to the information he had told her. Wanting to get out of there before Dumbledore started interrogating her, she shot him a polite smile and said, "If that is all, I will be returning to my room now. Thank you for your time, sir,"

Before Dumbledore could do anything, she quickly sprinted out of his room and into the corridors. Instantly, she felt a lot of pressure being lifted off of her. She couldn't stand his scrutinizing gaze on her, almost as if he could see straight through her and all her secrets. She felt unsettled by him. She had given him the impression that she was on Tom's side, and while she was not necessarily the enemy, she didn't think Dumbledore liked her at the moment. And if there was something she never wanted to do, it was to get on Dumbledore's bad side.

"Hermione! Very nice to see you!"

Hermione forced a smile to her face as Slughorn walked over to her. She was not in the mood to deal with him at the moment, but Slughorn didn't seem to have the ability to see through her fake smile and see that he was unwanted. Instead, he smiled widely and patted her shoulder, like they were good friends.

"It's so very nice to see you!" Slughorn repeated, and then he looked over her shoulder as if he expected to see someone. "Where's Tom? M'boy...haven't seen him in a while. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was ignoring me." Slughorn laughed nervously.

Hermione merely shrugged, not really caring about Slughorn's issues with Tom. Tom probably _was_ ignoring the potions master, though she didn't see it was necessary for her to tell Slughorn that. "I haven't seen him today," she told him truthfully. She had skipped breakfast to study in the library, and after that, she had been called to Dumbledore's office. She had Quidditch later though—something Black and Abraxas had somehow roped her into—so she would see him in a few hours on the field. "I will tell him when I see him that you're looking for him."

"Oh, no, m'dear, that is completely unnecessary. In fact, the person I want to talk to is _you_." Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Why was everyone suddenly so interested in her? "You see, I have these parties sometimes."

"Slug Club," said Hermione, remembering how Tom told her once how stupid the event was. He also mentioned that Slughorn only did it so he could get closer to the powerful families, boosting his status. Hermione had asked him that since it was based on family, why Tom himself had been invited. Tom would have crucio'ed her had she not fled the room the moment she said it, returning only after he had cooled down.

"You've heard of it?" Slughorn looked utterly delighted that Hermione didn't find the heart to tell him that all she had heard of it was bad news. Students getting drunk and engaging in fights was the least of it. "I only invite the very best to participate. There are debates, dancing, and…" he leaned closer, as if telling Hermione a big secret, "Don't tell Dumbledore, but I bring firewhiskey as well."

Hermione wondered why he brought up the transfiguration professor instead of the Headmaster. Dippet was very oblivious to everything, that she knew. But surely he still had the most power in the school. After all, if Dumbledore had the most power, Tom wouldn't even be in the school. It was no secret that the only place Dumbledore wanted Tom to be was behind the bars in Azkaban.

"So, m'dear, I have seen your brilliancy," Slughorn continued. Hermione had no doubt that his plan was to flatter her until she agreed to attend. "Your skills are at the same level as Tom's, and that is saying quite a lot." Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Tom, she knew, wouldn't be too pleased to hear that. "It is only natural that you come and attend the Slug Club, where all the individuals are around your same intellect."

Hermione sighed, feeling as if he was going to pester her until she agreed. "Very well, I accept," she said, and Slughorn's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thank you very much for the invitation, Professor Slughorn."

"No, m'dear, it's my pleasure!" Slughorn beamed.

He still stood there, as if expecting her to get down on her knees and thank him. Hermione nodded politely and said, "Now if you'll excuse me, Professor, I have somewhere I need to be." Without so much as casting him another look, she spun around and headed back towards the library.

ஐ

Nick was pacing, and it was making her nervous.

"Nick," she tried, but there was no response from him. She had been rather surprised when he had pulled her out of the library and locked them inside an empty classroom. She knew Nick had something to tell her, and, knowing him so well, she knew he wouldn't be able to keep it from her much longer. However, that didn't make her any less anxious. There were very few things in the world that could trouble him, and right now, Nick looked _very_ troubled.

"We have a problem," Nick stopped pacing, running his hand through his hair, before groaning. "We have a very big problem." He frowned.

"Do we?" Hermione asked, wondering what on earth could have gotten Nick so worked up. He was usually so calm and composed; it was strange to see him like this. "And what exactly is this very big problem?"

Nick took a deep breath. "The other day, Bella dragged me inside a classroom," he said, watching her carefully as if gauging her reaction. Hermione clenched her jaw and her hands tightened into fists, but she didn't say anything. Bella did a lot of things; it didn't mean that she had to get angry about every single one of them. "She began saying things about you."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Nick? I can handle the things she says about me," Hermione scoffed. "I'm a big girl. I just ignore the things that come out of her mouth. They hold no weight. I understand that it may be difficult for you to do the same, since she enjoys talking to you so much, but you have to learn to ignore her. The more you acknowledge her words, the more poison she'll spit out at you."

"That's not it," Nick shook his head. "She began talking about your father, and then her jealousy issues with you. And then she brought the two of us up again, and then mentioned that she was going to hurt you. Seriously hurt you. She's doesn't just want to kill you anymore; she wants to torture you until you'll be begging for death. And knowing her, she'll make me watch." He closed his eyes.

Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm. "Nick," she said seriously. "Are you okay? Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'm strong, remember? I'm not an easy target." She glanced at him worriedly. "What about you? It can't be easy for her to keep declaring her love for you. If you need any help, just let me know, okay?" She gave him a small smile. "Don't forget that I'm here for you."

Nick looked at her gratefully. She hadn't realized how much he had been through as well. She always felt herself because she was forced to work for her father, and she looked up to Nick, who had the courage to run away. However, just because he escaped didn't mean his life was any easier. His past was going to haunt him forever, both physically and mentally. It was not something he could just erase from himself.

"However," Nick said, frowning slightly. "There's another problem that I haven't told you about yet."

Ah. There always was a catch.

"Bella was talking, and I was trying to prevent her from getting so emotional and running off on a killing spree." Hermione rolled her eyes. Bellatrix had always been a girl motivated by her emotions rather her brain. She had almost burned down a village once just because she was hungry. It was just another part of Bella that she hated.

"And, well…" Nick ran his hand through his hair, determinedly not looking at Hermione now. "She left the door open a little, and someone came in. It was obvious that he heard the whole thing and had seen both our faces."

Hermione blinked, feeling a wave of dread settle over her. "Did they hear about me?" she asked, and then immediately felt selfish. Nick had been there, and the person had _witnessed_ him firsthand, and here she was asking about herself?

"Unfortunately, yes," Nick sighed.

"Did you…" she was almost afraid to ask. Nick was careful, but by the look on his face, she couldn't help but think that he messed up for the first time in his life."Did you erase their memory?"

Nick shook his head. "I didn't," he admitted, and Hermione's heart fell as panic gripped her. Her secret was out in the open. "He was gone by the time I managed to chase Bella out. That, and I wasn't sure if you wanted me to erase his memory." He cast her a sideways look.

"What do you mean?" Of course she wanted his memory erased. That was a no brainer. What had Nick been thinking, letting him get away? She wouldn't have hesitated to obliviate the intruder as soon as he entered the room. Not only had Nick not done that, he had let the person get away.

Nick sighed again. "It was Abraxas Malfoy," he said, watching Hermione carefully, "He's the one who saw us."

_Abraxas?_ Hermione had known this day would come, but she hadn't properly thought over what she was going to tell them. She had been hoping to be done by her mission by then, but she had not expected them to find out so quickly. She had thought that she could tell them and then leave before they could tell anyone, but she wasn't ready to leave yet. And she hadn't expected _Abraxas_ of all people to find out. If anyone, she would have guessed Tom as her first candidate. He was certainly curious enough to be snooping around in her life.

"You didn't shut the door," Hermione whispered. She felt slightly bad that she was blaming Nick, but who else was there to blame? He had been careless, and he had made a mistake. It wasn't a little mistake, by any means. And on top of that, he had let Abraxas get away without erasing his memory. Who knew who Abraxas had told by now?

But then again, would she have erased Abraxas' memory? Or any one of her Slytherin companions? She had grown closer to them, and now, the thought of obliviating them did not seem as inviting as it did before. Just like how she would not obliviate Nick, no matter what the consequences were.

But at the same time, she wanted desperately to stay at Hogwarts. She was torn.

Nick sighed. "Hermione, there's something I need to tell you." He hesitated slightly, which surprised Hermione. Nick _never_ hesitated before. He said whatever was on his mind. What made him suddenly decide to choose his words carefully? Was he afraid that he'd anger her or make the situation worse? It was already quite bad. "You have grown too close to your friends."

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, not quite comprehending where he was going with this. He chose _now_ to tell her? Surely there was a better time to tell her that he didn't approve of her choice of friends.

"At first, I allowed you to have friends because it seemed to make you happier," Nick explained. "However, after a while, it was quite obvious that they were here to stay. I even let that go, because you were careful and I trusted you. You would not do anything stupid. However, now, I'm not entirely sure." He raked his hand through his hair once again. "You have let them have too much power over you. You're starting to put their priorities over your own. You know as well as I do that you cannot do that. You are in a precarious situation, Hermione. Everything you say can be used against you."

Hermione blinked, slightly shocked at what she was hearing. "First of all, Nick, you do not '_allow_' me to have friends," Hermione said, a tad of anger laced in her voice, "I am allowed to live however I want, and you can't control my life. Secondly, what do you mean they have too much power over me? I can still beat most of them quite easily in a duel."

"You know very well that's not what I meant," Nick said, "I was talking about the mental aspect, not the physical aspect. You are starting to let them in, Hermione. Not only is it easy to accidentally say something you'll regret, but you'll start considering their needs as well. You absolutely _cannot_ do this. It should have been a no brainer for you to hunt down Malfoy and obliviate him, yet you hesitate. You cannot hesitate in the battlefield. You know that as well as I do. One moment you're alive, and the next you're dead."

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and scowled at him, feeling angry at him. "If you remember, it was not me who let Abraxas get away. It is you. Why are you lecturing me for _your_ mistake?"

Nick looked like she hit him, and Hermione almost wanted to take her words back. However, her stupid pride got in the way, and her mouth wouldn't open to say her apology. Instead of saying sorry like she wanted to, she did nothing more but stand her ground and glare at him.

"Yes, I am aware that it is my mistake," Nick said softly, "However, I knew that you would be greatly saddened if Malfoy had his memory erased. You cannot force that decision on me, Hermione. You cannot force me to make that decision."

"You're the one who just lectured me on not putting other people's needs before my own," Hermione said sourly, "Why are you suddenly doing the same? Do you think I need protecting more than other people? Because I don't! Why won't anyone get that?"

"It's not a matter of that," Nick said gently, much too gentle than she deserved. "You're my best friend, Hermione. Of course I feel a great sense of loyalty and want to protect you to the best of my abilities. However, I couldn't do either of the options. To obliviate him or not. Both options saved you yet hurt you at the same time. You need to find something to do about this, because this absolutely cannot happen again. Assuming, of course, that there is a next time." Nick shot her a sharp look. "I would pack my bags just in case Malfoy went to inform someone."

"How could you, Nick?" Hermione whispered. She wasn't ready to leave Hogwarts yet. She didn't want to go. "Why couldn't you have obliviated him? Why did you have to care about my feelings so much? You shouldn't have hesistated!"

"Because I care about you, of course," Nick said, "Because I know who you are and you know who I am, and yet we're still here for each other. None of your friends will be able to understand it if you tell them. They don't know who you are, and they can't handle it. No one here can handle it."

"I don't know what you're saying." Hermione shook her head in denial, not able to help that sadness that crept into her voice. "I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a normal girl. I am a fifth year Slytherin, and I want to do well on my NEWTs this year. Grades are my worst enemies."

Nick smiled sadly at her. "But you're also Grindelwald's daughter."

"I don't want to be," Hermione clung to him, willing the tears that were piling up in her eyes to go away. She would not cry over something so trivial. "I want to stay here. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to hide. I just want to be a regular schoolgirl and worry about exams and grades. I hate this all. _I HATE IT_." She sobbed quietly into Nick's robes.

Nick patted her back gently. "It doesn't matter if you run away," he sighed, "Grindelwald likes to keep his toys around him. Even if you manage to escape, he'll be there to haunt you." Nick let out a shaky laugh. "Merlin knows that he still haunts me every day. It doesn't help if you run away."

Hermione stiffened. "What did you just call me?"

Nick blinked, looking slightly confused. "What?"

"You called me his toy," Hermione said, removing herself from Nick's grasp. "I am not his toy, Nick. I am a person, not some kind of property."

"We're all his toys, Hermione," Nick said gently, "He plays with us and uses us to his advantage, and he throws us away once we have served our purpose." Nick stared as a look of anger appeared on Hermione's face. "Are you okay? Is there something wrong?"

"I can't believe you called me a toy!" Hermione glared at him. "I am not a toy!"

"Yes, yes, you're not. I'm sorry," Nick eyed her warily. "Please calm down. I said it from Grindelwald's point of you, not mine. I don't think of you as a property, Hermione."

"You took the easy way out!" she accused, pointing at him with her finger. "You left, and I was there by myself. You couldn't possibly understand what I had to go through alone. You aren't even part of his family! Do you know what they'll do when they find me? I am directly related to the evil, mass murderer. What do you think they'll do to me? They'll _torture_ me! I can't die yet. I'm too young."

"Hermione, I know," Nick tried to soothe her, "It's understandable that you're scared. Please, calm down and we'll think this over."

He reached towards her, but she batted his hand away. "No, you _don't_ know," Hermione screeched at him. "No one knows what it's like when you want to please him, yet murder him at the same time. You don't know the things I had to go through, because _you weren't there_! And now you have the guts to call me a toy?"

"I didn't call you specifically a toy," Nick said, eyeing her warily, "Hermione, you and I discussed this before and you agreed with me then. If it bothers you, then I apologize for bringing it up and will never use the word again. Now, can we calm down a bit?"

"No," she growled at him, feeling a sudden rush of anger towards him. It wasn't all directed at him, but since he was the only one in front of her, he was the only one she could vent her anger to. All her rage of being discovered, of feeling pathetic, of realizing that Nick's words were true yet she didn't want to admit it, were directed at Nick in a venomous glare.

"Hermione…" he said, reaching over to calm her down.

"No!" she jerked her arm out of his grasp. "You will not touch me, Nicholas Porter! You left the door open! It's all your fault! None of this would have happened had you just turned around the closed the door!" The hurt was evident on his face, but Hermione made no move to soothe him. Instead, she glowered at him before spinning around and walking out, slamming the door as hard as she could.

ஐ

It had taken Hermione a while to calm down, though by the time she had to go outside to play Quidditch with her Slytherin friends, she had managed to quell her anger considerably.

Hermione watched Abraxas warily, but if he remembered what he heard from Nick's conversation with Bella, he didn't show it. Instead, he greeted her cheerfully when she met him on the fields, talking to her for a few minutes before flying off with Black. She had been so afraid that he would make her admit it that she almost didn't go, but he didn't not show any sign of having even heard the conversation.

Perhaps Bella had obliviated him or something. That had to be the only explanation. Hermione felt a huge weight being lifted off of her. She didn't like Bella at all, but for once, she felt a surge of gratitude towards the girl.

Cygnus and Black were heading towards her, and once again, Hermione had a little panic attack when their expressions were somber. In the background, she could see Abraxas fooling around with Eleanor, and wondered if he had told the brothers what had happened in that room between Nick and Bella.

"Hermione," Black said, stopping in front of her. "What did he say?"

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"Tom, of course," Cygnus said impatiently. Black glanced nervously over his shoulder to make sure that he didn't appear, but Tom was still nowhere to be seen. "You went to ask him about my mother, remember?"

She did, in fact. However, that seemed like such a long time ago, even though it had just been a day. It was a wonder that she hadn't seen either Cygnus or Black in that amount of time. "Oh, that," Hermione said, trying not to let the relief seep through her voice that the twins didn't inquire about her relation to Grindelwald. "He just wanted a snake."

"A snake?" Cygnus repeated in disbelief.

"The same…" Black trailed off, looking over his shoulder once more. "_ugly_ snake that we saw him hiss at?"

"Where is the snake now?" Cygnus asked.

"No idea," Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't very interested to know about it, and Tom never shares anything on his own."

"Why was _Mother_ there?" This was from Cygnus again.

"She's a snake dealer, apparently," Hermione shrugged. "He didn't mention much more than that. He wanted a snake, and she was the dealer that they sent to sell it to him. I don't think he knew it was going to be her until he saw her. Maybe he didn't even know until I brought it up with him," Hermione shrugged. "I can never tell with him."

"He was making out with her," Black deadpanned.

"He was not making out. More like…flirting?" Hermione sighed. "Tom flirts with everything with two legs. Actually, I think he'd be willing to flirt with a tree if that's what was necessary." Hermione sighed again. "They are not in a secret romance, if that's what you're worried about."

"And you're okay with this?" Black asked.

"Am I okay with this?" Hermione shot him a look. "Of course I'm not okay with this. I plan to snog every boy that I come across, just to spite him." She made a face. "It sounds very disgusting to me, but I never back down from a challenge." Her eyes wandered over to Black's, and her face lit up. "Hey, Black, do you want to—"

"No, no. That's okay," Black said, backing up slowly. "I don't have a death wish."

"Where is my mother now?" Cygnus demanded, bringing the two of them back to the original topic. "Is she still communicating with Tom? Does he know where she is?"

"I don't think so," Hermione shrugged. "I think it was just a onetime thing. After she sold him the snake, the two of them went their separate ways." Hermione paused. "But then again, I don't really monitor what he's doing, so he could hiding her under his bed for all I know."

Cygnus looked like he was tempted to run up to their dormitory and check under all the beds. Black, however, looked at Hermione skeptically and said, "You don't mind that you seem to know nothing about his life?"

Hermione shrugged. "He knows nothing about mine. We're even. We'll live."

Black still looked doubtful, but remained silent. Cygnus, who seemed to have decided against returning to his dormitory, said, "Why does he want a snake anyway? And why did he have to ask my mother to sell him one?"

"Tom has an obsession with snakes. I'm sure you've noticed," Hermione said wryly. "And the snake he bought from your mother wasn't an ordinary snake. It was a poisonous one."

"A _poisonous _snake?" Black asked, his eyes wide open. "He could get expelled because of that!"

Hermione cocked her head to one side. "He'll only get expelled if someone tells on him." Her eyes locked with Black's. "Are you willing to do that?"

Black looked away. However, Cygnus said angrily, "What are you, his sidekick now? Going to protect him?" There was a look of anger in his eyes, as if she had somehow offended him. Which, she supposed, she probably had in some way.

"I do not approve of having such a creature in Hogwarts, no." Hermione said, and then looked away. "However, I don't particularly want to be killed because Tom's angry with me." Her hands started to shake slightly. "So as long as his snake does not do anything, I will keep quiet about it."

There was silence, and then someone placed their hand on her shoulder. "Are you afraid of death?" Cygnus asked softly. Hermione didn't respond, but she didn't need to. "You shouldn't be." There was a look of seriousness in his eyes. "You should embrace it with open arms." He paused. "Tom's afraid of death as well."

Before she could respond, he gave her a curt nod and walked away to where Violetta stood. Hermione watched him go, and watched the two of them embrace with absolute adoration in their eyes. Black, she noticed, made a complete show of giving them his back. There was a look of jealousy on his face, one that she was sure must have appeared on hers as well.

What did she have to do to get love like the one that Cygnus and Violetta were sharing? She never had experienced love like that. She used to scoff it; why waste time with such trivial matters? Her father had never promoted it, and there was no time for her to love in between her missions. She was just too busy to stay alive.

The rest of the afternoon passed without another incident. She talked slightly with Violetta, who asked her to be the maid of honor at their wedding. Hermione agreed to it, and gave the girl a hug before Cygnus came and swept her back to their dorm.

She was growing slightly paranoid, however. Tom and Abraxas had barely said a word to her since she had got there. The few looks that they directed towards her weren't hostile, but they weren't inviting either. Perhaps they were upset that once again she had decided not to join in on their Quidditch game, but she doubted that that was the case.

After the game had ended, she went back to her room, but was much too distracted to finish her homework. She kept thinking back to how Abraxas and Tom had treated her on the Quidditch fields. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. They had to know something. And she had to know what they knew.

She rushed down to the locker room and burst in without knocking. Abraxas let out a yelp and dove for his towel. Hermione, beet red, quickly turned around to give him his privacy. She could hear Abraxas swearing softly behind her as he struggled to cover himself.

"You can turn around," Abraxas said gruffly. Hermione did and saw that he had only wrapped a towel around his waist as he continued to search through his locker.

Hermione leaned against the doorframe. "No clothes?"

"Trying to find them." He gestured towards his locker. Hermione had never seen anything messier in her life. He laughed at the expression on her face. "As you can see, it'll take a while to find them. Black released a dungbomb in here last week, and I still haven't cleaned it out."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Do you usually parade around naked?"

Abraxas gave her a look. "Hermione. This is the boys' locker room. We've been here for five years already. Everyone has already seen everyone else billions of times. You get to the point where you don't care anymore." He went back to his searching. "Girls usually know to steer clear of locker room. Or, in some cases, stick around." He rolled his eyes.

An idea popped into her head. "Does that mean you've seen Tom naked?" she asked, a grin spreading on her face.

Abraxas snorted. "No, unfortunately he always places a spell to shield himself from view. We've been trying to figure out how to get rid of it, but we haven't been able to." Hermione chuckled. "What? We're not really interested in what he looks like. We just want to see why he keeps hiding. Black has some theory about how he's anorexic."

"I don't think so," Hermione laughed. "Tom's not anorexic."

Abraxas' eyes grew wide. "Have you…"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no." Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Does it always smell like this in here?"

"It's the locker room. It's supposed to be sweaty and smelly." Abraxas looked at her. "Is there any particular reason you're down here at this moment? I know I'm absolutely charming to talk to, but you could have waited until I went to dinner. What is this urgent matter you need to speak to me about?"

Hermione was unsure what to say. Abraxas showed no signs of being mad at her. Perhaps she _was_ just being paranoid. She was about to come up with some kind of ridiculous excuse, when her eyes zeroed in on something on his arm.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to his left arm. He immediately leaned away so she couldn't get a better look at it. However, she had seen it already and she was curious now. "No, let me see what it is. It looked dark, and it stuck out of your skin."

"That's none of your business." Abraxas mumbled, though Hermione could see a look of fear appear on his face as he dug through his locker for something to find. Unable to find anything, he retrieved the first pair of boxers he could find and hung it on his arm.

"Abraxas," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Hermione," he matched her tone of voice. "We all have our secrets."

"That doesn't look like a good one to be keeping, though," Hermione pointed out. "It was _really_ dark. Are you sure you don't have some kind of disease and you're dying because of it? That didn't look normal."

Abraxas looked relieved. "No, I'm not dying. That's not a disease."

"Then what is it?"

Before Abraxas could respond, the door to the locker room opened again and in stepped Tom. It did not escape Hermione's notice that he did not move from his spot and stood directly in front of the door, blocking any escape. Hermione narrowed her eyes and her hand drifted towards her wand.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long," Tom said to Abraxas, his eyes drifting towards the boxers on his arm. "I see now that I will have to prohibit walking around unclothed."

Abraxas bowed his head. "Yes."

Hermione had not seen this kind of treatment in a long time, where Tom acted like the master and everyone acted like his servant. Perhaps they had stopped doing it, or perhaps they had just got better at hiding it.

Tom turned to look at Hermione, and she felt very bare under his gaze. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "What was that on his arm? It looked dark, and it was sort of like a mark." She looked at him expectantly, like he would be willing to tell her.

Abraxas flinched again, but Tom hardly batted an eyelash. "How about," he asked softly, "we focus on another topic?" Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but closed it when she saw the dangerous look in his eyes. Her hand drifted to her wand again, clutching it in her tight fist.

Tom started to advance on her, and she slowly took a step backwards. Abraxas had finally found his robes and put in on, though he did nothing to help her. "Hermione Granger," Tom cocked his head to one side, his voice dangerous. "What is your relation to Grindelwald?"

Hermione felt all the blood rush out of her body and she immediately felt faint. _'I need to get out of here.'_ She quickly drew out her wand and cast a spell at Tom, who deflected it easily as he continued advancing on her.

He was still blocking the door, so she saw only one more option for escaping. She fired at the window, shattering it into millions of pieces. Then, with one more look at Tom, she sprinted away, making sure that he didn't decide to curse her back. He didn't; he just stood there and watched her while she ran away like a maniac.

'_I need to tell someone about this,'_ Hermione thought miserably as she continued to run. She didn't trust herself to stop. _'But who can I tell? No matter how much Dumbledore hates Tom, he cannot allow a daughter of Grindewald to run around the school.'_

'_Nick,'_ she suddenly thought. Nick had been there for her every time. Nick had been willing to listen to her ramble, and he had treated her nicely even when she was screaming at him. She immediately regretted yelling at him earlier. He had done nothing to deserve it. Though he had run away from her father, he had had his own difficulties to face as well. It hadn't been a walk in the park for him either.

Slightly tired, Hermione did not stop as she sprinted towards the Gryffindor common room.

ஐ

He wasn't there.

"Nick?" Ron asked lazily from his bed. "He was in here about half an hour ago. Looked perfectly happy one moment and then the next, he ran out of the room." He shrugged. "Sorry I couldn't help you."

"Do you know where he went?" Hermione asked. She was sure she was quite the sight; she was breathing heavily and her hair was sticking up everywhere. However, that was the least of her worries right now.

"No, Porter just ran off with an angry look on his face," Seamus called from his bed. "Hey, Ron, I have some leftover candy from Hogsmeade. Want some?"

The two of them went back to their conversation as Hermione wandered over to Nick's bed. Nothing looked different or out of place. However, she knew Nick was calm and collected and rarely did he lose his cool. He would only sprint out of the dorm like that if it was something serious.

She was about to leave when she noticed a tiny scrap of paper sticking out from one of his drawers. Feeling rather curious, she took it out and opened it. There were only six little words scribbled on it.

_Meet me on the field, love._

Hermione felt panic grip her once again, and she rushed out of the room, ignoring the bewildered glances of Nick's two roommates. It was already dark outside. Why would anyone want to be on the field? Did Nick have a new girlfriend? Even if he did, it was highly unlikely that he would agree to meet outside at night.

She rushed onto the field, aware that it was dead quiet. Perhaps he had gone somewhere else and the note was old? She wandered around in darkness. She would alert him if she cast a lighting charm, and she didn't want to do that. If he _was_ here because of a girlfriend, she would turn around respectfully and leave and talk to him later.

"Well, well, well," Hermione froze. "If it isn't Hermione Granger. Or should I say,_ Hermione Grindelwald?_"

"Bellatrix," Hermione hissed. "What are you doing here?" She paused, and then panic gripped her. There was only one reason why Bellatrix was on the field. "Where is Nick? Have you seen him?"

"Oh, yes, of course I have seen Nicky." She cackled. "He's right here. You can see for yourself."

Hermione looked to where Bellatrix was pointing to and gasped. Ignoring the other girl completely, she rushed to her best friend, the boy she had loved like a brother. "_Nick!_" she shrieked, dropping down to her knees and cradling his head. "Nick, wake up! _Please!_" She began sobbing, thick tears running down her cheeks. However, it was no use.

Nick was dead.

Bellatrix had used the killing curse, so there was no chance that she could revive him. Hermione laid a kiss on his head, praying to anyone that was listening to revive the boy in her arms. However, no matter how hard she wished, Nick stayed dead in her lap.

"Why?" she choked out, looking at Bellatrix. The girl looked gleeful, not at all concerned that she had just murdered someone. "Why him? You hate me. You didn't need to kill him to get back at me. He had done nothing to deserve this."

"I _despise_ you, Hermione Grindelwald," Bellatrix cackled. Hermione barely winced at her surname, the sound a distance hum in her head. She didn't care anymore. "It is true that I will exact my revenge on you one day. But this had nothing to do with you." She smiled eerily. "If Nicky can't love me, then he can love no one else. Look at him." She gestured towards Nick. "He will forever be mine now."

"I can't believe it." Fresh tears began spilling out of her eyes. "Nick was killed by you, you delusional girl! He's _dead!_ He is no one's but Death's! Is your jealousy truly worth killing him? _IS IT?!_" She didn't care that she was screaming.

"Don't speak of things you don't know," Bellatrix scowled. "You were always the perfect little girl just because you were Grindelwald's daughter. You always won. But now," her voice became soft. "Look at everything. You are a dense girl while _I_ know everything. He has shared his plans with me. You are nothing more than a pawn now, while _I_ am a queen." She cackled. "This was the final step to ensuring my dominance. I would take away what you loved until you are nothing more than an empty shell. _I _have all the power."

"This is between you and me!" Hermione shrieked. "You didn't have to involve Nick! Nick had nothing to do with this! You forced him to come out here, and then you killed him!"

"On contrary, he was the one who decided to meet me. I didn't force him to," Bellatrix batted her eyelashes innocently. "Do you want to know why he came out here even though he knew I would be waiting for him? He was protecting you, you silly bitch." Hermione blinked. "I could tell everyone about your heritage. I had the power to ruin you. He was determined to chase me out. Not for himself, but for _you_." Bellatrix cackled again. "He did everything in his power to make me leave. He even promised to come with me. However, I could detect the love for you in his voice, and I could not have that." Bellatrix smiled eerily. "The last thing he ever saw was my face. Not yours. _Mine_."

Hermione knew that Bellatrix was trying to make her feel guiltier than she already was, and it was working. Her whole body started to shake, and she placed Nick gently on the ground, feeling unworthy of even touching him.

"Oh _Nick_," she sobbed into her hands. "I'm so sorry. It's all because of me. You did so much to try and help me, but it didn't work because I didn't listen. You're dead because I was too much of a coward to admit you were right. I'm sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry."

"He saw my face last," Bellatrix repeated, sounding very much like she was gloating. "And what is the last memory he has of you? You were yelling at him and insulting him." She looked very much like a sore winner. "He will only remember you with hatred."

"He can't remember anything! He's _dead_! You made sure of that!" Hermione yelled at her, feeling her anger snap. She looked down towards Nick. "I'm so sorry, Nick," she repeated again, and then stood up. "I'm going to make sure he didn't die for nothing," she said, her voice slightly shaky. "I will avenge him. I will kill you one day. It might not be now, or in the near future. But one day, I swear to everything I believe in that I will murder you."

Bellatrix laughed like it was the most absurd thing she had ever heard. "I look forward to that, missy," she said. Before Hermione could do anything, Bellatrix grabbed something next to her and disappeared. Hermione assumed that it was a portkey, but she had been too busy grieving that she had failed to notice what it was.

Hermione dropped down again next to Nick, brushing the hair gently out of his eyes. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine she could hear his breathing, but she could hear nothing. Nothing but silence.

Until her ears picked up the sound of footsteps.

She quickly turned around and tried to cover Nick with her own body, but she saw that it was just Tom. "Tom," she said, the relief evident in her voice. She hadn't forgotten that she had run away from their last meeting, but he would have to forgive her this once. Her friend had just died. Surely he could excuse her previous behavior. "Tom, Nick's _dead_."

Tom said nothing, just continued to look at her with a blank expression on his face.

"I know you didn't like him," Hermione continued, "But please help me bring him back to the castle." Tears started flowing down her cheeks again. "_Please_…so he can get the proper recognition that he deserves."

Tom was silent, before he did something that Hermione hadn't expected him to do. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. "I have no pity for the daughter of Grindelwald," he said softly. Hermione's eyes widened, but before she could say anything, he began to fire curses at her.

Unlike Bellatrix, Hermione did not have a portkey. She could not apparate until she got out of Hogwarts, which looked very far away. She started to drag Nick with her, away from Tom. Her wand was out and she deflected and dodged Tom's curses.

However, when she was only halfway there, Tom decided to use another strategy and cursed Nick's body so that it was ten times heavier than it actually was. Hermione looked at Tom, not believing that he could be so cruel. However, Tom continued to send curse after curse at her, one of them grazing her arm, causing blood to spill out. There was no look of remorse on his face.

She did not recognize him.

However, she did not recognize herself anymore either.

"I'm so sorry, Nick," she sobbed once she got hit in the arm again. "I'm sorry that I'm not as strong as you. I'm sorry that you ever met such a messed up girl like me. I don't deserve you. You gave your life to try and help me, and now I'm letting you down again." She took one last look at him. "I'm so sorry, Nick."

She took a deep breath, and before Tom could cast another spell, she turned around and sprinted towards the perimeter. Her hands felt so empty without Nick's body in it, and she almost turned around to go and retrieve it. However, the fear of death and torture forbid her to do anything but keep running forward.

'_I am such a coward_,' Hermione thought as she reached the end of the Hogwarts boundaries. She turned around and saw Tom towering over Nick's dead body. She willed herself to look away, and then disapparated away.

_The world is so cruel._

I_ am so cruel._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I am aware that Hermione is acting like a coward and is kind of OOC right now, but that'll change. Probably. Hopefully.

Thanks for reading. Hopefully the next update will be up faster than this one was.


	26. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: **To inform you of how crazy I am, I finished this chapter in one day. Excuse me if I'm awfully proud of myself right now. Anyway, as you know, since I typed this up in one day, this is horribly unbeta'ed. So yeah, not my fault. *hides from the angry readers*

And…my shamelessly pimping section! I know you all love these. So I have two new stories out. **The Big Apple**—AU oneshot. **Insurgence of Obscurity**—a multi-chaptered fic that I have already completed (for a Secret Santa fic exchange). It will be updated once a week. The next chapter of TANK is out as well…so yeah. Plenty to read for you! Shoo. Go read those.

Of course, thank you to all my reviewers, subscribers, followers, and readers in general. I really appreciate your comments and feedback. In case you didn't get the memo—I've finally gotten off my lazy butt and have started review replying again. So if you have any questions whatsoever, feel free to send them to me and I'll try to reply as fast as possible.

Anon, Mighty Ruler of Gummi Bears, UniCryin, Double R Starr, AMUTOforever305, reader204, werevampluvr, IamBellatrixLieutenantofVold y, BigTimeGleekBTR, Anon, Dodge1989, Stylus, Sabi1994, Kate Elizabeth Black, Lumere97, Yuuki Kuchiki, Anon, KAYKAY22PRINCESS, Diane Potter, Ryn Thaliowen, Daughter of Oceanus

* * *

><p>"Today we acknowledge a really terrible loss." The Great Hall quieted down considerably. Orion Black glanced at his brother, but Cygnus looked just as confused as he was. Orion glanced over at his best friend, Abraxas Malfoy, but the boy seemed to be determinedly looking everywhere <em>but<em> at the Headmaster. Orion frowned slightly.

Tom knew something, Orion could tell. The way he sat, the disinterested look in his eyes informed Orion that Tom knew more than Dumbledore was going to tell them. Asking, however, was a pointless waste of time; there was no way Tom would tell him anything. Tom considered himself above everyone. He refused to converse with anyone.

Except Hermione, that is. But Hermione herself was strangely missing.

"Nicolas Porter, was, as you all know, exceptionally hard working, infinitely fair-minded, and most importantly, a fierce, fierce friend." There was a buzz around the Gryffindor table. Ronald Weasley and his friends suddenly looked very alert. Nicolas Porter, like Hermione, was missing as well.

This was such a strange speech.

"Therefore, I feel you have the right to know exactly how he died. Yes, Nicolas Porter has parted with us today." There was a loud wail as Lily Evans, who was rumored to have went out with him to make her boyfriend jealous, collapsed to the ground. Ronald Weasley turned pale as he shook his head, as if trying to reassure himself that what the Headmaster said was not true.

Orion glanced back at his brother. Violetta, who was sitting next to him, looked like she was about to cry. Cygnus was busy comforting her, but he did look up at his brother and mouth, '_Hermione_.' That's right; Hermione was still missing from the dinner. Perhaps she had learned of her friend's death before they had, and she had decided to skip the meal to gather herself in her room.

He would have to investigate her room later. Normally, he did not go into the girls' dormitory—the girls usually came to _his_—but this was an exception. The death must have hit her hard. Even though they had been sorted into different houses, the tight bond between Nicolas Porter and Hermione had been evident.

Orion glanced at Tom and Abraxas, so sure that he would see surprise on their faces, but he got nothing more than an angry scowl from Abraxas. Orion had never seen his friend so angry before. As for Tom, he didn't look surprised at all.

There was something fishy going on.

"You see," Dumbledore continued after the noise had died down. The Gryffindors were still dabbing at their eyes furiously with handkerchiefs. There was a somber mood in the air. At least Avery and Lestrange decided to keep their mouths shut for once, though by the way they were trading grins, it was obvious that they weren't particularly distressed by the news.

"Nicolas Porter was murdered by Gellert Grindelwald." A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

Violetta reached over and gripped his hand for reassurance. Orion himself felt kind of nauseous. He had just seen Nicolas Porter just yesterday. He was still himself—annoying, yes, but still alive. The fact that Grindelwald killed him must have meant that the Dark Lord had been somewhere near Hogwarts. How did he get in? Did he have spies? Were they all in danger?

"The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. But not to do so I feel would be an insult to his memory. Now the pain we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me, and, reminds us, that though we may come from different countries and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one. In light of the recent events, the bonds of friendship made this year will be more important than ever. Remember that, and Nicolas Porter will not have died in vain. You remember that, and we'll celebrate a boy who was kind, and honest, and brave, and true. Right to the very end. "

Even Lestrange and Avery were not chuckling any more. Everyone was silent, the fact that Nicolas Porter had been killed and the fact that Grindelwald was rising to power striking fear in their hearts. Even Abraxas had the decency to look slightly frightened, though he hid it well underneath a cold mask. Orion knew his friend well, though. He had seen the way his eyes twitch slightly to the left when he was nervous.

Tom, however, was still as easy to read as a rock. He sat up in perfect posture, not looking very bothered. Perhaps he wasn't. Orion had seen him torture countless number of innocent people before. Death was not new to him.

However, even though it was no secret that Tom hated Nicolas Porter and would have killed him himself if he had a chance, Orion was shocked that the threat of Grindelwald's rise to power didn't even faze Tom.

Eleanor Bletchley was sitting next to him. She and Abraxas had gotten their relationship started, but she had been complaining over the past few days that he seemed to be troubled. He was always angry and scowling, though he wouldn't tell her anything.

She told him before Dumbledore began his speech that tonight, however, Abraxas seemed particularly furious. He frowned at everything and jumped at the slightest movement. She refused to sit next to him during dinner, but he looked like he was too preoccupied with glaring at the wall to notice.

Now, she was nudging him gently with her elbow. Then, ever so slightly, she tilted her head in Tom's and Abraxas' direction, informing Orion that she too had noticed something suspicious about the duo. Orion nodded, and Eleanor understood that the two of them would have to talk later.

"Remember Nicolas. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Gellert Grindelwald. Remember Nicolas Porter."

He looked up, and at once, it seemed like the truth hit the hall at full force. The entire Gryffindor table seemed to simultaneously burst into tears, their crying echoing through the hall. Even the people who didn't know him that well from the other houses shed a few tears. Violetta was openly crying, ignoring the disgusted looks that she got from her housemates. Even Eleanor bowed her head slightly as a sign of respect.

The noise was reduced to quiet sniffling when Dumbledore raised his hand. "That is not all the bad news, I'm afraid." It didn't look like the others could handle any more news. Their eyes were already red and puffy, their bodies pale and delicate. "There were two more people involved in the incident. Only Nicolas Porter's body was found, so we can only assume that they were taken." He paused. "Taken by Gellert Grindelwald."

Orion's hands tightened into fists. _No_, he thought. _No, no, no._ He had just seen her yesterday. They had been on the Quidditch field. They had joked around like normal. How could she be gone? _No_, he thought. It wasn't her. It was someone else who was taken. Anyone but her.

Tom didn't look worried at all, despite the fact that his girlfriend was not present at the table and the Headmaster had just announced that two people went missing. Orion wanted to punch him in the face. Cruciatus be damned, he'd take any punishment as long as he got to mess up Tom's poker face.

"Eileen Prince was discovered missing this morning. There are no clues on her whereabouts." There was not as big of a reaction as the announcement of Nicolas Porter's death. Maybe it was because she was declared dead, but merely missing. People knew deep down that being kidnapped by Grindelwald could be worse than death, but they reasoned with themselves that at least she was still alive.

Or perhaps it was because unlike Nicolas Porter, Eileen was not as well loved. She spent most of her time hidden in the library and rarely conversed. In fact, the only person Orion had seen her talk to was Hermione.

_Hermione_, he thought. Dumbledore would only call out one more name. There were so many students in this school. There was no way he would call out her name.

However, as Dumbledore opened his mouth, he turned to look over at the Slytherin table, and Orion knew that she was the other person to be declared missing. The Headmaster barely glanced at him, though, and slid his gaze over to Tom. The boy just regarded Dumbledore evenly, his lips curling up slightly.

Maybe, while he was punching Tom, Orion could use Legilimency on him as well. He sometimes wondered what was going on in that head of his.

"Hermione Granger is also declared to be missing." Orion almost didn't recognize who that was. '_Granger_.' It was weird that he didn't even know her last name. Was she a muggleborn? It definitely was not a pureblood last name. It suddenly struck him how little he knew of her private life. She never talked about her family, or her past. He didn't even know why she chose to transfer here.

And now, it might be too late.

"Oh no," Violetta whispered, burying her head in Cygnus' chest. Cygnus took a deep breath and shot Orion a stricken look before burying his face in Violetta's hair. Normally, it would have bothered him that the two of them were so in love, but now he could not think of anything other than Hermione.

How could she be missing? She wasn't particularly wealthy or powerful. She was just a girl. Maybe she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Orion wanted to shake Abraxas. Not a hint of remorse or guilt was on his face. What was _wrong_ with him? He _had_ been acting rather weirdly, not just with Hermione, but in general. They had been friends for so long. It felt so weird not to know what Abraxas was thinking.

He supposed that he should be used to Tom keeping secrets after so many years, yet it still managed to irk him.

"We have to talk," Eleanor murmured. "Abraxas is not usually like this. He's trying to act like he doesn't care."

"I _know_," Orion said, feeling rather annoyed with everything around him. "I've been his best friend since we were in diapers."

Eleanor didn't appear to hear him. "We just need to find out _what_. It had to be fairly serious if he's like this. I've never seen him do anything like this before."

Orion wanted to add that she barely knew Abraxas, but held back. He didn't have anything against Eleanor; he liked her quite fine. They played Quidditch together, and he knew she made Abraxas happier. However, right now, he wanted to tear up the whole room and toss a table at _both_ Abraxas' and Tom's head. He wasn't feeling particularly patient at the moment.

Violetta had stopped crying by now, and he was thankful for that. He felt…_nauseous. _He felt so sick and angry and disgusted with everything around him. His temper was short and explosive. Had Violetta kept up her whimpering, he was afraid he would've lost control of his body and thrown something in her direction.

He needed some quiet. He could not keep sitting in this room, listening to the quiet mourning. He could not deal with the aching feeling inside him. He could not continue to sit there, knowing just across the table, Tom and Abraxas knew what had happened and _would not_ tell him.

Everyone annoyed him now. Even Hermione, for leaving and not letting anyone know. Even at Nicolas Porter, whose death seemed to start this whole thing. There were so many missing pieces of the puzzle and he did not know a single one of them.

He quietly excused himself to the bathroom. But everyone was either so busy mourning or frankly just didn't care that no one heard him. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe he could be like Hermione, fade into the shadows and just disappear.

ஐ

_Hermione twirled in the forest, practicing her usual, dangerous dance. Her father hadn't understood why she still trained. She knew how to use a wand now, so there was no reason for her to still need to fight using pathetic, muggle means. However, she knew that no matter how good she was, there was still the possibility of losing her wand in a duel. It was better to have other tricks up her sleeve._

_Her mother had given her her first knife at the age of two, and her first gun only a year later. Grindelwald, of course, had not been pleased with his wife's actions, but a mother always knew best. She continued giving Hermione her weapons and allowing her to be trained, not caring that punishment always followed._

_Of course, it wasn't particularly easy. Her mother, while she _had_ weapons, was not skilled at using them at all. Hermione mostly trained by herself, but it was hard in the beginning. She was clumsy with her weapons, and often ended up hurting herself with them._

_As time went on, however, it got easier. Once she read up on the basics, all she needed was practice. And practice she did. She set up targets in the woods to hit. She hacked at human dummies. Everything that she could do given the things she had, she did._

_There was very little to do at the mansion. Her father was not yet comfortable sending her out to do missions, so she stayed at home. There wasn't very much to do. Her father—unfortunately—had locked up all the books in the library. If she did something well, he would give her one. If she didn't, he would take away one. They were meant as rewards, which Hermione didn't like. She thought that books should be free for everyone._

_However, she wasn't going to argue with him about that._

_Since she had so much time while she was in the mansion, she often snuck away to train. Once in awhile, her father asked her to deal with some of his victims. She found out that she hated those days the most. At first, it was only because she did not have the day to herself to train. Unlike all of Grindelwald's other minions, she did not look forward to torturing other people because it simply took away her free time. _

_Grindelwald did notice his daughter's lack of excitement when she was given a job, but he must have assumed that it was because she had gone soft-hearted. That was not the case at all. _

"_Hey there."_

_Hermione whirled around, jamming her knife at the intruder's neck. She was breathing heavily from a combination of hard work and surprise. She dug the knife in more—not enough to kill the person, but enough to draw blood. _

_It was a boy she had never seen before around the manor. Then again, her father had hardly allowed her to meet anyone. He kept her sheltered, away from the rest of the world. The only people she saw on a daily basis were her parents. Everyone else came and went so fast that she barely had time to memorize their names._

_The boy had shaggy blond hair and, despite having a knife being held under his neck, an easy grin was on his face. He looked relaxed, like the two of them were just having a civil conversation in the middle of nowhere._

_It struck Hermione how _blue_ his eyes were. So clear and so deep._

"_Sorry for scaring you," he said easily, not looking concerned that Hermione was holding a knife aimed at him. Beads of blood began to form from the wound Hermione had made, but if he noticed, he didn't show it. Instead, he just continued smiling that stupid smile of his. He probably did it to show that she could trust him. _

_Too bad she wouldn't trust anyone._

"_Why are you out here?"_

"_None of your business," Hermione said bluntly. She removed her knife from his neck, but still kept it up in case he decided to attack her. He made no move to do so, but it could all be a deception. Her father deceived people at his will. It was only natural that he trained his minion to do the same._

_This boy, however, was surprisingly young. He looked to be around the same age as her. She had never seen any other kids in the mansion. He looked rather carefree, not looking like he was hanging around Grindelwald's mansion. Perhaps he was just a little kid in the wrong place at the wrong time._

_If that was the case, then she would have to kill him. 'Leave no witnesses," her father always said. ' You cannot guarantee they don't talk.'_

_The boy raised an eyebrow at her harsh tone. "It _is_ my business," he argued. "This is my woods. Since you're in here, it's my business. If you don't want me bothering you, go to another place." He sat down stubbornly on the rock._

_Hermione felt her temper rising. "_Your_ woods?" she asked shrilly. "I've been practicing here for years! This is not yours. This is my woods." She plopped down across from him, still keeping herself alert in case he decided to attack her while she was sitting. "_You_ go somewhere else."_

_The boy winced slightly at her harsh tone. "What's your problem?"_

"I_ don't have a problem. You're the one invading my personal space!" She huffed. "What's your name, anyway?"_

"_Nicolas," he said cautiously, watching as she waved her knife around. "Nicolas Wilkes."_

"_Wilkes?" Hermione's eyes widened. "You're the son of the woman who Grindelwald killed last summer!"_

_Before she could do anything, he lunged forward toward her. Caught by surprise, she managed to deflect the blade he dug out of his pockets. However, once his and her knife collided, they flew into the distance. Hermione grimaced as Nicolas knocked her to the ground, temporarily stunned. _

_Once she regained her bearings, she was about to reach up to throw him off of her when surprisingly, he got up himself. He sat back down on his rock and took deep breaths, burying his face in his hands._

_Hermione sat up, noticing that the knives were behind him. Could she somehow edge around him and get them before he noticed? He had his eyes covered, after all. _

_However, before she could reach it, he stood up again and went over to gather the knives. Hermione nearly had a heart attack and mentally prepared herself for his throw. However, it never came. Instead, he just gently handed the knife back to her and pocketed his again. Hermione, still slightly suspicious, watched him warily._

"_Sorry." He let out a shaky laugh. "I guess I'm still not over it. It's only been a couple months." He leaned back against the trunk behind him. He took in her bruised arm that he had crushed underneath his weight. "Sorry about that."_

_Hermione just shrugged. She didn't dare to pocket her knife, but the boy looked harmless. Besides, he had the chance to attack her before and he hadn't done so. She didn't see a reason for him to start now. Hesitantly, she sat down opposite of him, mimicking his position._

_Hermione thought he fell asleep, but then he asked, "What's your name?"_

_He looked so peaceful there, so innocent. It made Hermione wonder if he truly knew the details of his mother's death. Grindelwald, of course, had forced Hermione to learn every detail. But how could Nicolas be in peace after what had happened to his mother? Hermione knew that she herself would never get over it if her father killed her mother._

"_Hermione," she said cautiously. _

_He opened his eyes and smiled slightly. "Do you have a surname, Hermione?"_

_Hermione hated bringing out the daddy cards. She didn't want people to associate her with her father. She was her own person. She wanted to be known for her own strength, not for relying on something passed along to her._

_Hermione just shrugged. "Not really."_

"_Not going to tell me?"_

"_Nope."_

"_Pity." He stood up. Hermione instinctively took on a defensive stance again, but Nicolas just laughed._

"_I'm not going to attack you," he said, and surprisingly, Hermione trusted him. "I'm going to leave now. You can have the woods for yourself again." He bowed slightly, his eyes shining. "Nice to meet you, Hermione."_

_And then he was gone._

ஐ

Ronald Weasley stomped over. It seemed that his face was even redder than his hair was. Behind him, an uncertain Lily Evans was trailing. She kept looking around anxiously, like she thought the professors were going to stop Gryffindors and Slytherins from talking to each other.

Unfortunately, the bathroom trip had not helped clear his mind. In fact, it had only made it worse. It had been much too hot and the air had been too dense; he felt like suffocating while he was in there. When he came back, nearly nothing had changed. Tom and Abraxas were still eating like there was nothing wrong, while Cygnus continued to devote his whole attention to Violetta. Eleanor was eating quietly by herself, ignoring everyone else completely.

Avery started jeering across the table when Ronald Weasley came over to the table, but the Gryffindor paid him no mind. Instead, he leaned toward Orion and sneered, "What have you done? You've crossed the line."

Orion regarded him coolly. "You're quick to start with the accusations." He was aware that the noise in the Great Hall was dimming again, and everyone's attention was focused on them. "Do you have any proof?"

"You're Slytherins," Ron said bluntly. "You always do things like this."

"Weasley." Cygnus seemed to only then notice that Ronald Weasley was standing at their table and looked up from Violetta. His voice was cold and his eyes were murderous. It appeared that he wasn't in the best of moods either. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Which one of you killed Nick?" Ronald Weasley's eyes were narrowed dangerously and he took one step toward Cygnus. Cygnus put his body between Ron's and Violetta's, glaring back at Ron. Based on the atmosphere, it almost seemed like a third world war was taking place.

"Dumbledore said that he was killed by Gellert Grindelwald," Cygnus said quietly, though not with any less vehemence. "It would be appreciated if you stop your baseless accusations and make something of your life."

"Oh, that's _rich_ coming from you," Ron snarled. "You bloody cowards. You have the courage to murder someone, and you don't have the gall to confess? You are cowards! All of you!"

"Ron." Lily Evans tugged at his arm. "Ron, that's enough. We can talk about this later." She obviously noticed the amount of attention that they were receiving. Even the professors were glancing over at the conversation, though none of them made any move to stop it yet.

"Like hell we can," Ron growled, trying to move forward. Without warning, there was a loud bang as Abraxas stood up noisily. Orion glanced at his friend, but Abraxas didn't even glance over before storming outside with a glare on his face. He almost flipped over two plates on his way out, but he didn't even stop to check if they fell or not.

There was a long silence. Then Violetta, ever so eloquent, said, "Is he alright?"

"Of course he's not alright," Eleanor said offhandedly. "He's been like this for _days_."

Orion tuned out her voice as she rambled on to whoever was willing to listen to her. She was no doubt trying to protect Abraxas, and while he himself usually did so, he simply did not want to this time. Not when there were so many secrets swirling around, and when Abraxas obviously knew something that he wasn't telling.

When was the last time they had kept secrets from each other? He did not know. Even though they didn't giggle and pry each other at night, they understood that they had to tell the other everything. There were simply no secrets between the two of them, yet they never needed to ask. They just both understood.

Abraxas had just broken that delicate trust.

Orion swiveled his gaze to Tom, who was in an eye-lock with the Transfiguration professor. Dumbledore stared back, as if trying to read his mind, but Tom regarded him with a smirk, a confident expression on his face. The glint in his eyes seemed to be challenging Dumbledore to do more.

After a few more minutes of staring at each other, Dumbledore finally gave up and went back to murmuring quietly with the other professors, though Orion did not miss the way he kept glancing at Tom as if to check if he had decided to start spilling his secrets in front of everyone.

Tom, it seemed, had finally had enough. Having finished his dinner awhile ago, he stood up. Several people glanced over at him, including Tracey Parkinson. Surprisingly, she had left him alone during the speech, though it appeared that she wanted him back now. However, he paid her no attention.

Before he could think, he blurted out, "Where are you going?"

He instantly regretted it as Tom looked at him over his shoulder, his eyes dark and his face impassive. There was no way that Tom was going to tell him anything anyway, so why would he have bothered to ask?

"The noise in here is a bit too loud for my liking," Tom said smoothly, glancing over at where Eleanor was now arguing with Ron. "I believe it is time for me to retire to my bed." He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure out what Orion knew. Knowing Tom was an expert in Legilimency, he quickly averted his eyes, though he saw Tom smirk before he did so.

Tom left quickly, and Orion could see Dumbledore's gaze linger near the door for awhile before turning to talk to Dippet. Why it was Dumbledore who gave the speech rather than Dippet, he did not know. Then again, Dippet could hardly hold a conversation. He couldn't read a speech for his life.

Tracey Parkinson suddenly leaned over. Walburga—or Wallie, as he often called her—stayed in her seat next to Avery, but he could see that she was watching the conversation. Ronald Weasley, he realized, was still standing there. Apparently, he had run out of accusations, but was too proud just to admit defeat and walk back to the Gryffindor table.

"You have my permission to search the room," Tracey said. "Her bed is the first one on the left. You just tell us what time you want to check, and then Walburga and I will clear out."

Ronald Weasley looked angry. "You're giving us permission to search through _her_ things?" he asked, scowling. "You don't have permission to do that!"

He seemed to be arguing at every little thing he could pick on.

"I'm not giving _you_ permission to do anything." Tracey scowled. "However, should they wish to do so, I'm giving them permission to search our dorm. Not, specifically, Granger's stuff." She glanced at Orion. "There might be some clues you want if you look hard enough. Walburga and I have not touched anything."

"Why?" Cygnus asked, tilting his head to one side. Orion had to agree with his brother. It was no secret that Tracey and Walburga despised Hermione. Why would they suddenly want to help them find her?

"Tom hasn't been acting in the same way for the last couple of days." Tracey frowned. "Not since…" she trailed off, glancing toward Walburga. The girl just shrugged. "Not since Granger started to sleep talk."

Ron suddenly looked like Christmas had come early. "Hermione sleep talked?" he asked, leaning toward Tracey. The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust and moved away, but Ron didn't seem to notice. "What did she say? Where there any clues?"

"No, neither Walburga nor I heard anything," Tracey said as Ron's face fell. "Violetta, did you hear anything?"

"No." Violetta shook her head, giving a small laugh. "You know me. I'm as dead as a rock when I sleep."

"It might also do with the fact that you're in Cygnus' bed more than your own," Walburga murmured under her breath. However, it was still loud enough to be heard, and Violetta blushed a deep shade of crimson. Cygnus glared at his cousin, who just merely shrugged.

"Anyway." Tracey rolled her eyes. "Something must have happened between Tom and Granger to have something like this occur. I want to know what that witch is doing to my poor Tom. It simply isn't right for him to be troubled like that."

"He was never yours, Tracey. It's time to stop yearning for the things you can't have." Eleanor's glare was sharp. Orion was slightly surprised by her outburst; he hadn't noticed Eleanor and Hermione to be close at all. And if there was one thing he had learned about Slytherins, it was to put your own well-being in front of everyone else's.

Tracey narrowed her eyes. "Are you looking for a fight, Eleanor?" she asked. "Because I'll beat you up until you're on the ground, begging for mercy."

"Oh, _please_, as if you could—"

"This is a place for mourning," Lily Evans interrupted loudly. The two girls stopped their bickering to glare at the Gryffindor girl, who didn't even spare them a glance. She turned toward Orion. "Will you let us come into her room as well?"

"No." Ronald Weasley looked like he was going to fly forward and attack him, but Lily managed to hold him back. She frowned at Orion, but he refused to back down. "We are liable to give you a few details, yes, but this does not concern you."

"Nick was my best friend!" Ron yelled. "How the _bloody hell_ does it not concern me?"

"I was under the impression that we were going through Hermione's belongings," Orion said in a steely voice. "Hermione is missing, so we will try to scavenge whatever clues she left behind for us. Porter, as you recall, is _dead_." Ron flinched as though he had been hit, and if looks could kill, Lily Evans would've murdered him already. Even his own brother was looking at him suspiciously. Oh well; he was significantly cranky, and had little temper for anyone else. "However, if you still believe you can find him out there, go scavenge _his_ room. Hermione's room is none of your concern."

Ron glared at him, and then shook his head in disgust. "Let's go, Lily. They're a waste of our time." Orion thought that it was fairly lucky that Ron didn't get attack; his statement was practically inviting a fight.

Lily Evans, however, reached forward and grabbed his wrist. He shook her off, thoroughly disgusted, but she continued to look at him with an understanding in his eyes. She seemed to be looking at him in a new light, though Orion didn't know what had caused such a change.

Lily leaned closer, and before he could push her away, she whispered, "You loved her, didn't you?" Orion just looked at her, dumbfounded. _That_ had not been the words that he had been expecting to hear.

She took his silence as an affirmative, shooting him a small smile as she steered Ron back to the Gryffindor table. Orion stared at her retreating back, feeling rather bewildered.

She thought he loved _Hermione_?

He suddenly remembered the photograph taken of him and Hermione supposedly 'kissing.' He wondered if it had been passed around by now, which was why the rumors of him supposedly being in love with Hermione arose. Was that why Abraxas and Tom were so annoyed at him? Because Hermione was supposedly cheating on Tom with him?

It sounded absurd, even in his own mind.

How would Lily Evans jump to that conclusion, then? He supposed he was being rather possessive of her space, but that was what happened with siblings, right? He considered her a sibling now. The ache he felt was because he had lost a sister, a good friend.

He did not love Hermione Granger. He barely, as much as he hated to admit it, knew anything about her. He didn't love her the way Cygnus loved Violetta, or even the way _he_ loved Violetta. He still _did_ love her. There was no room for Hermione in the equation.

Right?

ஐ

_He came again the next day._

"_You're here!" he said cheerfully, making sure to keep distance between the two of them when he notified her of his presence. It slightly annoyed her how he could sneak up on her. Not many people could; her mother using to say that she had a six sense. She took pride in being able to determine when she was alone and when she had company._

_Unfortunately, this boy seemed to nullify her sixth sense completely._

"_Why are you here?" Hermione asked sharply. To be honest, she hadn't been quite sure if he would show up or not. She had her doubts. After all, who would want to spend their time with a girl who spent her free time training with weapons in the forest?_

_The boy—Nicolas—just grinned. "I was bored. You are bored. Maybe we can do some stuff together." He walked closer to her. "Want to fight?"_

_Hermione blinked. That was certainly not what she had been expecting to hear. "What?"_

"_Fight."He threw a couple punches into the empty air. "Or duel. Whichever one you prefer. I have both." He took out his wand and knife and presented them to her, like they were some sort of prize worth showing off._

_Hermione eyed him warily. While she still did not quite trust him, she supposed a bit of fighting wouldn't hurt. It was better to know what she was up against, after all. "No weapons," she instructed. "We can fight hand combat."_

"_That's a surprise," Nicolas said, though he didn't object. "Most girls don't like the physicality of hand combat."_

_Hermione shrugged, and a thought crossed her mind. "There are other girls here?" she asked._

"_Of course," Nicolas said, looking at her weirdly. "You've never seen them before?" _

_Hermione shook her head._

_Nicolas' eyes widened. "That must mean that you have been sheltered, and the only person I know of that is…are you Hermione Grindelwald? Gellert Grindelwald's daughter?" He shook his head in disbelief. "No wonder I haven't seen you around before."_

_Hermione felt a certain rush of anger. "You won't duel me, now, right?" she said sourly. "You people are all the same. You're all big cowards. All talk and no action."_

_Instead of looking offended, he just looked curious. "Why wouldn't I duel you?" _

"_Because I'm Grindelwald's daughter," Hermione said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "You don't want to hurt me because then I'll go running to my daddy for help and I'll ask him to exterminate you."_

_He didn't look scared at all. Instead, he just grinned. "Oh, I wouldn't be able to hit you if I tried," he said, smiling. "You looked rather good while I was watching you. Much better than me, actually. It's me that has to be worried about getting hurt."_

_Hermione felt a sense of gratitude rush through her. Other than her mother, no one had ever praised her fighting skills. However, she could never put her thoughts into the proper words, so instead, the sentence that came out of her mouth was, "Why are you fighting me, then, if you know you're going to get hurt?"_

_Nicolas grinned cheekily. "If you practice against someone who is better than you, you get better yourself. Why would I turn down something like that? I'm always looking for ways to improve."_

"_I'm sorry about your mom," Hermione blurted out. She wasn't even sure why she said it. After that reaction she had gotten from him yesterday, it was fairly stupid to bring up the topic again._

_However, to her relief, Nicolas didn't try to attack her again. Instead, he just sighed. "Yes, I am too," he said, sadness creeping into his voice. "And I'm sorry about your mother. It must feel awful, having to impersonate someone else."_

_Hermione laid a hand on his arm. It was warm. "Grindelwald really loved your mother," she said softly. It was supposed to be reassuring, but it didn't come out sounding that way. She only hoped Nicolas still got the point._

"_He doesn't love anyone," Nicolas said, looking away. His eyes were hard now, focusing on something unknown in the distance. "But…I suppose he cared for her in his own way. It's a pity she couldn't see how much he mourned over her. She would have laughed."_

_Hermione blinked. "Grindelwald didn't murder her?"_

"_Oh, no. Of course not." Nicolas shook his head. "She was one of his possessions. He wouldn't just trash her like that." He bit his lip. "It was a girl who is three years older than me. Her name is Bellatrix. Have you heard of her?" Hermione shook her head, still rather shocked that a _kid_ had murdered Grindelwald's mistress. "Well, Bellatrix has heard of _you_. And be warned, she's awfully jealous."_

"_Of _me_?" Hermione asked. "What is there to be jealous about?_

"_You're Grindelwald's daughter," Nicolas said simply. "What is there _not_ to be jealous about?"_

_Hermione was silent for a moment. This information was new to her. She didn't even know there were other people in the mansion, let alone know that they knew all about _her_! She pondered quietly, before she asked, "Are _you_ jealous?"_

_Nicolas was quiet, and then he said, "There are better things to be jealous about."_

"_I suppose so." She didn't say anything, wondering how much she should reveal to the boy next to her. Did she trust him? To a certain degree, yes. Was he still a loyal follower of her father? She couldn't tell. It seemed like he still resented the man to a certain degree for his mother's death._

_And, she supposed, family knows best._

"_Sometimes," she said, looking away. She could see Nicolas glance at her, waiting for her to go on. "I wish that I was born into a different family. That I could grow up and have a normal life." She looked at him. "Do you ever think that way?"_

"_All the time." Nicolas looked at her kindly. He let out a small laugh. "But I didn't say that. You didn't hear that from me."_

"_Same." Hermione felt herself smiling back at him, like they were sharing a private joke. She hadn't smiled in so long; it felt sort of nice to let her mouth do something other than frown. _

_She was still holding her knife, so she pocketed it and stepped into the clearing. "You promised me a fight," she called at him. He grinned at her and joined her in the clearing. From his twinkling eyes and that insane grin on his face, Hermione decided that she liked him._

"_Don't hold back on me, Nicolas, just because I'm a girl or because I'm Grindelwald's daughter," she said as they took their defensive stances. "I can take everything you throw at me. Give me your all."_

_Nicolas laughed. "Call me Nick."_

ஐ

"Is she a girl?"

Eleanor, who had somehow convinced Orion to let her come along, glowered at him. "That was incredibly sexist." She rolled her eyes. "This isn't _too_ bad. I've seen worse before, anyway."

Violetta stepped over some notes that were scattered on the ground. Hermione had written everything so small so that she could fit the most on one page. Her textbooks were everywhere, open to random pages where Hermione had been jotting down notes.

If anyone looked at her dorm, their first thought would have been a bookworm. A typical, know-it-all bookworm. She was so _normal_. What could have possibly happened for her to go missing?

Orion had a backup plan in his mind. If he searched the room and it revealed nothing, he would go kidnap Abraxas and use Legilimency on him. Best friend be damned, he really wanted to know what had happened to cause a normal nice—or as nice as a Slytherin could be—boy to completely switch his personality.

"Search everywhere," Cygnus called. Orion noted that his brother had _finally_ let go of Violetta, allowing the girl to walk by herself. It was about time. He could still feel the aching in his heart when he thought about the missed opportunity he had with the girl. He was still very much in love with Violetta. He didn't know what Lily Evans was babbling about. He definitely did not love Hermione.

He wondered why the thought of loving Hermione irked him so much. Now was clearly not the time to be thinking about such trivial matters, but it kept popping into his brain every couple of seconds, as if to remind him that it was still there.

"Eleanor," he called out coldly. "If you cannot keep your hands to yourself and stop invading other people's privacy, I will have to kick you out. This is not a zoo for you to look at all the animals. We're on a mission."

Eleanor froze, her hand stuck inside Tracey's suitcase. With as much dignity as she could muster, she stood back up again. "You yourself are going through Hermione's stuff." She raised an eyebrow. "And you want to lecture _me_ about respecting other people's privacy?"

"We have a purpose to do so." He was getting increasingly fed up with the girl. He understood that she was worried about Abraxas, but did she have to be so _annoying_? It was really beginning to get on his nerves. He had a long day already. He didn't have time to deal with this.

"I _have_ a purpose," Eleanor muttered under her breath, but she thankfully shut up and moved away from Tracey's bed. However, Orion didn't miss the evil glares she gave Tracey's area when she thought he wasn't looking. Dippet sure was lucky he decided not to put her and Tracey in the same dorm.

"Do we just…go through this?" Violetta questioned from Hermione's desk. "Just go through her notes?" She bit her lip. "I don't know…I don't feel right about this. What if she had something private in here? She might not like that we're going through it."

Surprisingly, it was Cygnus who spoke up. "Hermione may be in lots of trouble right now. I think she'll have to overlook this just this one time. It _is_ for her wellbeing. There's just simply no time to start questioning every decision we make."

Violetta nodded, though she still seemed a little hesitant. Eleanor, however, wasted no time and flung Hermione's blankets around. "This smells awful," she called. "She really has to wash her sheets sometimes." There was a pause. "Do you think _Tom_ has been here?"

"What, in her dorm?" Orion asked absentmindedly from his spot next to her drawer. "If he did, he wasn't in here for very long. There wasn't that much time from the time he left the Great Hall from the time we got up here."

"You have no imagination," Eleanor scoffed. "I meant _here_. In her bed."

"Why would I care?"

Eleanor just shrugged and moved on. "Can't a girl be curious?" Orion gritted his teeth. One more worth from her and he would turn around and avada her where she stood. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut and instead crawled underneath the bed.

"There's nothing here," Violetta called. Cygnus, who had been searching with her, shook his head. "There is nothing but notes. Not even letters to her family." She held up a frame. "Here's a picture of her and Nicolas, but it doesn't have any writing on it."

Indeed, there were no clues on the frame. Even as Orion tried spell after spell on it, nothing revealed itself. They had come to another dead end.

Orion accidentally chipped it with one of his spells. The crack ran right through Nicolas Porter's body. In the picture, he froze and didn't move, his body in the exact same position as it had been when the frame had been hit. His eyes were staring into the distance, but they were glazed over. They were dull; there was no life in them.

Hermione, who had been spinning happily with Nicolas, paused and prodded Nicolas with her finger. There was no movement. She eyed him sadly and continued to shake him, but Nicolas would not budge. A couple of tears began streaming down her face, but no matter what, she would not leave him. She stayed right where she was, clutching onto his still arm.

"Orion?"

Orion hastily shoved the picture into a drawer and spun around to see Eleanor looking at him suspiciously. He blocked the drawer with his body as discretely as he could, and though he could tell that Eleanor was still suspicious, she decided to let it slide.

"There's nothing under the bed either," she said. "Have you checked the closet?"

"Yes. There's nothing but clothes."

"Vi and I checked the desk," Cygnus said, pacing around. Violetta had taken a seat on her own bed, a troubled look on her face. Cygnus looked up at him. "Orion…what do we do now? What other lead do we have?"

Feeling a sudden burst of anger—his temper was pushed over the edge with everyone's willingness to just give up—he grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at the wall. They all jumped as it hit the wall with a smack, before falling uselessly to the floor. Orion glared at it, like it had offended him.

Violetta sighed and patted his arm. "Oh, Orion," she said soothingly. She went over and picked up the pillow that he had thrown.

"This is not the time to lose your temper," Cygnus told him. "You'll have plenty of time to do so afterwards."

"You tell me what to do then, since you're so smart." Orion glared back at him. "If you have something better we can be doing, now would be a very good time to say so."

"Boys, boys. We're never going to get anywhere if we fight," Eleanor, ever so helpful, said.

"If you haven't noticed, we're not going anywhere anyway." Orion glared, reaching over for Hermione's other pillow. "We may as well just stay in here and have a pillow fight. We would get more done that way."

"Wait," came Violetta's voice. She held up the pillow, and then she showed them a piece of paper in her other hand. "This fell out when you threw the pillow. I think it's some sort of note."

"And you didn't find this how…?" Orion scowled at Eleanor, who held both her hands up.

"I didn't check the pillows, okay? I only looked under the blanket and under the bed." She sighed as Orion continued to glare at her. "I make mistakes. We all make mistakes. We found the note and that's all that counts. Are you going to keep yelling at me or can we actually make some progress here?"

Orion ignored her and brushed past her to stand next to Violetta. Cygnus was on her other side, looking as anxious as he felt. With trembling fingers, Violetta opened the note.

There was a big picture in the center of the page. It looked like Hermione when she was just a little girl. She was grinning, looking happier than Orion had ever seen her. She also seemed very active, jumping around the picture.

"Whoa, is that Hermione?"

"Comments are unnecessary, Eleanor," Orion said offhandedly. He noticed a line of words scribbled on the bottom and read them out loud. "With love," he said. "It's signed 'M.W.'"

"Who's initials are M.W.?" Cygnus glanced at Eleanor. "You know most of the people in this school, do you not? Can you recall who has these initials?"

"Off the top of my head, I don't think anyone does," Eleanor replied. "But I could always check the school records if you need me to."

"I don't think it's anyone from this school," Violetta said softly. "Hermione hasn't been to this school for very long, so it's impossible for someone to get a picture of her this young. The only one who knew Hermione before she came here was Nicolas Porter, but his initials do not match." She paused. "But I think we can go on this. Hermione is not a common name, so we can see if anyone with such initials is related to a girl named Hermione."

"That's a lot of people," Eleanor murmured.

"At least this way we'll have a place to start. It might be slow, but at least we know we're headed in the right direction." Cygnus glanced at his brother. "Do you think this is a friend? Relative?"

Orion shrugged. Truthfully, he didn't know _what_ to think anymore. The image of Hermione, the girl who he had just seen only a few hours ago, seemed like a ghost. The more he searched of her, the more he was convinced that he had only seen a façade she had put up.

Who was Hermione Granger?

"I guess that's all we can find in here," Eleanor said, walking over to make sure that there was nothing in the other pillow. "We can start our research now. Or do you want to sleep? We can start tomorrow." However, none of them were even remotely tired.

Cygnus led Violetta out the door, followed by Eleanor. Orion was last, making sure to take one last look at Hermione's dorm. Her drawer was slightly open; he had forgotten to close it. However, he decided not to close it. He could think of Hermione in the photo, continuing to stay in the frame until she was nothing more than ash as well.

But he hoped that by leaving the drawer open, she could at least see a little bit of light before she diminished into nothing.

ஐ

"_Want to fight again?"_

"_You must think I'm suicidal." Nick grinned. "I'm still so sore after yesterday, you could probably beat me with your hands and feet tied and a cloth over your eyes. I simply cannot move." He sat down on his rock. "My legs are so tired just from walking here."_

"_Why did you come, then?" Hermione sat down next to him. "You could have stayed home for one day. Relax your body. It can't be good for you to push it so hard."_

"_Yeah, maybe." Nick shrugged. "But this is the only time I get to see you. I can sleep anytime I want."_

_Hermione's heart lifted at the compliment. "Thank you," she said, feeling significantly happier. "Do you want me to visit next time? That way you can still see me and relax your body at the same time."_

"_That would not be a good idea," Nick sighed. "The other kids are rather hostile toward you. They're very jealous of the privileges that you receive. That is why your father keeps you away from them. He does not want them hurting you."_

"_They couldn't hurt me if they tried," Hermione said haughtily. And it was true; she was willing to take on however many kids they could throw at her. She would win, she had no doubt about it._

"_Maybe," Nick shrugged. "But it's better to be safe than sorry."_

_They were quiet for a couple of moments, then Nick said, "Can I trust you?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Will you tell your father?" His gaze was intense. For the first time, he wasn't smiling. Hermione felt slightly uneasy._

"_Cross my heart and hope to die," she promised. "I'll never tell a living soul."_

"_Do you ever just want to escape it all?" he asked. "Do you ever get fed up with everything and just want to leave? When you have nothing left waiting for you when you come home, when there's nothing left in the world you could possibly want. Do you ever just want to let go?"_

"_Of course I do," Hermione said. "Sometimes, I just want to escape life for a couple of hours, and then come back. Everyone feels that way." Nick was still looking at her very seriously. She added quickly, "Of course, you can try to leave. And you may succeed for awhile. But life has everything planned out already. Life will come and claim you again. There's no escaping it. No one can escape it."_

_Nick sighed, and she thought he looked a little disappointed. Before she could inquire about it, though, he forced an overly bright smile to his face. "I suppose that's true. Hey, where do you spend your days?"_

_Hermione raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment on the sudden topic change. "In my room, mostly," she admitted. "I would spend it in the library, but my father uses the books as a reward when I behave well. The library itself is useless to me without the books." She looked at him. "And whenever I have free time, I'm here. I like to train."_

"_Then, by any means, don't let me stop you." Nick gestured toward the clearing. "You can keep practicing. Don't mind me. I'm perfectly content with watching you." He tried to stretch, but only ended up letting out a moan of pain before sitting stiffly again._

_Hermione pulled out her wand. "Have you tried to use some spells on it?" she asked._

"_I prefer to let it heal the muggle way, actually," Nick told her. "It's going to heal either way, so why speed up the process? I feel like there's a lesson to be learned from this. Always be patient. And you always learn more when you take the hard way rather than the easy way out."_

"_I still don't get how your brain works," Hermione muttered under her breath. Nick just shot her a smile and pushed her toward the clearing, telling her to go train. She didn't want to leave him, but she hadn't practiced in a couple days either. She needed to keep conditioning to keep herself in shape._

_She practiced for a bit, but her heart wasn't into it. She kept sneaking glances at Nick. Sometimes, he was watching her and gave her two thumbs up when she looked over. Other times, he had his eyes closed as he leaned against a tree, his breathing coming out smoothly and peacefully._

_When she finished, she flicked her knife over at where he was napping. It struck the spot right above his left ear. To his credit, he didn't jerk awake or run screaming. In fact, he just calmly took the knife and handed it back to her when she came back to him._

"_Nice aim," he praised as she sat down once again._

"_I actually missed your face," she grinned. "Too bad. Maybe next time."_

_He pretended to look wounded. "My face?" he asked. "Why would you want to hurt such a pretty face like mine?"_

_She laughed and shoved his arm, and then immediately froze. She had never had a friend before. Actually, she had never socialized, period. And now, Nick was squirming his way into her life. They were acting like friends now._

Could_ she have a friend here? Could she sometimes make time to spend time with him? It would make her life more enjoyable, she had to admit. It was more fun when he was around. She would still have to remind motivate herself to practice when she had to, but she could use some companionship some times._

"_Hey." Nick nudged her arm. She didn't realize that she had frozen up. His eyes were full of concern, concern that she only saw with her mother. How could this boy, who had just met her a couple days ago, care about her so much already? It was truly a mystery. "Are you alright?"_

"_Yes." Hermione nodded, and then held out her hand. Nick looked at it quizzically. "For our friendship," she clarified. "Would you like to be my friend, Nicolas Wilkes?"_

_He looked amused. "Friendships aren't usually so formal," he teased. When Hermione faltered slightly, he placed his hand in hers. "I can do formal," he smiled. "Very well. Friends from this day forward."_

_Hermione grinned happily. She had her first friend! She always thought she would die alone one day, without anyone to care about her. However, she didn't need to worry about that anymore. She had Nick as her friend. Everything would be all right._

"_You should come to my room sometime," she told him excitedly. "I have a lot of cool things in there that I'm sure you would like."_

_Nick's smile slipped slightly. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea." Upon seeing her crestfallen face, he added quickly, "You're like royalty, after all. It wouldn't do for a lowly peasant like me to enter your room."_

_She wanted to add that technically, from what she had heard, Grindelwald was his father as well. That made him royalty too, didn't it? However, she just shrugged and said, "Well, if I'm royalty, I get to invite whoever I want to see my things!"_

"_Yes, yes," Nick said. "But you have to remember the dictator here is Grindelwald. He's the absolute monarch. No matter how much power the royalty have, it is he who can land the final blow."_

_Hermione's shoulders sagged slightly. "I guess you're right," she said. "I'll just bring my cool stuff here to show you. Would that be okay?"_

"_Of course," Nick grinned. "Just don't hurt yourself." She smiled back. "Oh, and Hermione?" He called out as she was about to leave. She looked back at him._

"_Make sure not to get caught."_

ஐ

Hermione let out a gasp of pain as she regained conscience. She wanted to sit up—lying down had always made her feel vulnerable—but she couldn't seem to get her arms and legs to move. They felt full of lead, weighing her down, so there was nothing she could do but continue to lay there helplessly.

"Ah, she awakens." The person she hated the most in the world laughed. Hermione glared at Bellatrix, who was standing in front of her with her signature maniacal smirk on her face. She looked quite pleased with her accomplishments. And behind her…

Gellert Grindelwald sat on his thrown, still looking very regal. He only looked amused when Hermione glowered at him. She knew it gave him pleasure to see her so helpless on the ground. He liked to do that to his victims a lot, to make sure they saw who was in charge.

"Bella did not bring you here," Grindelwald spoke, his voice low and rumbling. Bellatrix let out another cackle before she went to stand right next to her master. That used to be _her_ spot. She bet Bellatrix was so pleased with herself that she now 'earned' it.

"You came here by yourself," Grindelwald continued. "No one brought you here or kidnapped you. Do you know what that means, my daughter?" Both she and Bellatrix flinched at his title for her, though for completely different reasons. "You know where you belong."

Grindelwald smiled at her, except there was nothing sincere in the gesture. "Welcome home."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I apologize for the lack of Tomione moments. These are transition scenes, and they're kind of necessary for the plot.

Thanks for reading.


	27. Chapter 26 AUTHOR'S NOTE

So...I promised myself I would never write one of these because they annoyed me so much, yet here I am now.

This story is now on hiatus because my tomione muse-especially for this fic-has disappeared. I apologize for taking so long and I know it must be really annoying to wait this long only to get a hiatus notice now, but I really have been trying to crank things out, but it hasn't worked. And I'm not happy with the previous chapters any more either, so I do have to start trying to revise them.

That does not mean that I'm disappearing for years (sorry to disappoint.) My muse could come back next month, next week, or even as soon as tomorrow. I don't know. In the meantime, I will try to get my tomione muse ticking again by working on shorter projects and editing the first few chapters of this.

For those of you who have stuck with this fic all this time, I thank you for doing so, and apologize that you have to wait some time longer.

xxMari


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